What's a Girl to Do? (Season 5)
by originella
Summary: Fences have been mended by Murphy and Nicholas and things couldn't be better! When a surprise house, proposal, and adoption take Murphy completely by surprise, someone from hers and Ian's past will come knocking, and that's when the authorities finally catch on to what she's been up to, which could threaten to tear the newfound family unit apart forever.
1. As The World Falls Down

Chapter One: As The World Falls Down

NICHOLAS'S POV

 _The sudden pounding on my front door caught me off guard as I sat there, reviewing the deposition for the case I was working on with my father for what must've been the two hundredth time. Shocked out of the reverie I'd been building, I get to my feet, leaving the sanctity of my living room and making my way down the hallway, towards the front door. I peered through the spyhole, shocked at who I saw on the front porch, and immediately unlocked the door and stared out into the May evening, Murphy staring back at me._

" _Murphy?" I asked, shocked at her expression and body language. I took in her crossed arms and her exhausted expression, and her clothes appeared to be slightly wrinkled. I also noticed that her beautiful copper hair was placed in a messy bun on top of her head, and as she stood there, I noticed that she was shaking. "Are you all right? Come in, come in," I said, moving aside and feeling immediately relieved when she stepped inside. "It's six days from now that you were supposed to be back—what happened?"_

" _Hell in a handbasket," Murphy replied, trudging over the stoop and walking into the hallway, almost deliberately not turning to face me as she stepped into my living room. Going inside, she perched on the edge of my couch, and I moved to follow her, sitting beside her in the arm chair I'd previously been occupying, not wanting to invade her personal space bubble._

" _It couldn't have been that bad," I say, doing my best to make a joke, but once Murphy raised her beautiful brown eyes to mine, I knew that there was no room in her mind for me to be making jokes right now. I immediately felt my smile wiping off my face at the notion of the pain in my girlfriend's expression, and I found myself wanting to throttle whoever was responsible for making her feel this way. "What happened?" I asked, my voice more subdued now, wanting to get to the bottom of the situation._

 _Murphy sighed, two stray strands of copper hair seeming to escape her bun at the exact same moment from either side, which she immediately moved to tuck behind her ears. "I ran into someone while I was out jogging on our third day there..."_

" _You told me you used to jog all the time," I said, smiling at the notion of Murphy dashing down the streets of Beverly Hills, allowing herself a slice of freedom from all of the responsibilities that life had thrown at her. "Guess you really did have some spare time on your hands while you and Mom were waiting for Raquel..."_

 _Murphy nodded. "Mmm-hmm," she said; she was going numb, as she so often did—shutting off when she knew that there was pain to be dealt with, but she'd gone through so much in her early life, she didn't want to take it anymore. "I ran into Jasmine," she whispered._

 _You could've heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. "Jasmine?" I asked at last._

 _Murphy sighed, her shoulders concaving then as she seemed to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders for the hours leading up to this apparent confrontation. "Yeah, Jasmine. Ran into her at a coffee bar type place..."_

" _Was she alone?" I asked, knowing that Jasmine seemed the type to be attracted to someone who could provide for her—a professional type, or an athlete would've looked good on her arm, due to her high-profile status as a model._

 _Murphy shook her head. "No. Her son, Jared, was with her," she replied, turning to look at me to catch my reaction. "Jared looked to be about two—or, almost, considering he was born in October, which leads me to believe that there's only one candidate for his father, due to his looks and coloring," she says._

 _It was like a slap in the face as I got to my feet, covering my mouth with one hand and dragging my hand through my hair with the other. I remembered Jasmine coldly telling me that she was moving to LA, and that she had lied about being pregnant. Her pregnancy had kept me from being with Murphy, and when I thought it was a lie, it had driven us into each other's arms. Of course, things were complicated, as, on the outside of things, Murphy was dating Josh Fairfax—an enemy of mine—but I wanted her, god, how I'd wanted her..._

" _It looks like you have a son, Nicholas," Murphy said quietly._

 _I turned and looked at her then, feeling the fear emit from every fiber of my being, wondering if this was the moment that I would lose her. "I swear I didn't know, Murphy," I said as Murphy continued to stare at the expensive rug on my living room floor._

 _She gave a slight nod then. "How can I believe that?"_

" _Don't you trust me, Murphy?" I asked._

 _Murphy raised her eyes to mine then, and it was like a knife to the heart when I saw how cool and unfeeling she had made them. "No," she replied, and shook her head at me. "No, Nicholas, I don't trust you. I can't trust you."_

 _I drew back then, even further than I was from her, shocked at hearing those words. "What the hell do you mean, you can't trust me?!" I demanded._

" _Because I fucking know everything!" she screamed then, a flare of passion entering her veins then as she jumped to her feet. "I know that you're a liar! You may have never cheated on me, Nicholas, but you're a fucking liar, and I'm tired of your bullshit!"_

 _I stared at her then, searching her face for a clue and finding none. "What are you talking about?" I asked her, trying to remain calm._

" _Halloween," she replied, her word a gut-punch._

 _I shook my head at her, only partially understanding why I continued to deny it, when she clearly knew everything. "I don't know what you're talking about."_

 _Murphy scoffed. "No. No, of course you wouldn't," she said, her voice bitter. "I followed you the night of the ball, on your mother's orders, where your father told you that Pamela Farris hired some thug to plant the bombs and start the fire to try and kill me," she went on, and I knowingly looked away from her in my shame. "And then—oh, I thought this was the best part—not only did you get him to go along with it, but you told him that, because you were in love with me, which was the second time you said it, mind you," she went on, and my eyes flashed back to meet hers, "he actually agreed that he would keep it from me."_

" _How the hell do you know it was the second time I told you I loved you?!" I demanded, feeling amazed that I'd never truly said it to her face, at least, when she could hear it and I could've seen her direct reaction._

" _Because I know you came to the hospital after the fire," she replied, crossing her arms again, which was likely a barrier in case I got closer to her. "It makes sense—your parents were hurt in the fire—but I was your girlfriend, your fucking girlfriend, and so you came to see me because you felt guilty that I was put into that situation. And then you told me you loved me—you told me you fucking loved me—in the most cop out moment of the century!"_

 _I shook my head at her. "There are things at play here that you don't understand, Murphy," I said to her then, doing my best to keep my calm with her—I didn't want to fly off the handle and hurt her more than I already had. "Didn't you ever consider that I thought it was best that you didn't know, because I wanted to—"_

" _Don't you dare say you wanted to protect me, you jackass!" she yelled. "I protected myself for over twenty years, and I think I did pretty well. I was surviving then, but I want to live now. I thought I was finally living when we made it official a year ago, but, apparently, I was just lying to myself, because only three months out of the gate, you pretended you didn't say something, and four months in, you lied to me."_

 _I raised my eyes to hers then. "You were lying to Josh when you were with him," I replied, knowing full well how low I was sinking, but I didn't care._

 _Murphy narrowed her eyes at me. "What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" she demanded, her voice a low hiss, similar to a serpent._

" _How do I know you haven't been lying to me?" I asked her. "Your father is the very definition of a hypocrite, Murphy, so who's to say you're not exactly like him?"_

 _Murphy's eyes lit up on fire then as she advanced towards me without hesitation and slapped me full across the face. "Never compare me to him!" she roared. "I may be a liar, too, but I am nothing like Frank Gallagher!"_

 _I cupped my cheek then, staring down at her and all the pain I'd caused and shook my head. "I need to know what you're hiding from me," I said quietly._

" _Fine," she replied. "Josh threatened me at the hospital," she said, shrugging her shoulders then, as if it meant nothing, when, in fact, it meant everything. "And he came by the house a few weeks back and assaulted me..."_

" _He did what?!" I demanded._

 _She shrugged again. "Doesn't fucking matter—I took care of him," she said. "Clobbered him over the head with a baseball bat and then Ian and Lip took him back to his apartment. I could have killed him, but I didn't. Not my style," she replied, backing away from me. "Between the two of us, you're the killer, Nicholas."_

 _I shook my head. "I don't understand."_

" _You killed us," she said, her voice cracking as her emotions threatened to get the better of her as she stepped away from me. "We're done."_

 _Immediately, I went after her, grabbing ahold of her arm before she could even get to my hallway and held her back. "Don't," I said, holding onto her._

 _Murphy turned back to face me then, holding back her emotions by attempting to harden her face, but they somehow managed to escape through. "Take your hand off me and let me go!" she said, although her tone was begging me._

" _You love me," I said, the words foolishly falling from my lips. "You love me, Murphy. I can see it in your eyes—you love me."_

 _She yanked at my grip on her. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I don't love you, Nicholas, now let me go!"_

" _That's why this is so difficult for you—what else are you hiding, Murphy? What is it?" I asked, turning into the begging party now. "Admit it—you love me, and you're hiding something. What happened in California?"_

 _Murphy let out a gasp then as she turned away from me, attempting to keep her sobs at bay as she lowered her eyes to her stomach—there was nothing in it, there was something in it. "I'm not hiding anything—now let me go!" she yelled then, breaking out of my hold on her then as she dashed for the door, throwing it open and running down the path towards where she had parked her car._

" _Murphy!" I cried out, running after her._

 _Her name tore from my throat as I ran through my door and outside into the sunset-filled evening, seeing her about to step off the sidewalk and into the street. I went after her then, just about to step off the sidewalk myself when I saw it—a Lincoln car tearing around the corner then at top speed, and Murphy stood there, like a deer in the headlights as the car came towards her, and my own life flashed before my eyes._

" _Murphy!" I screamed again, knowing what I had to do, but not really knowing all at once. I stood there for half a moment, before I pushed myself off the side of the street. Almost without thinking, I dove into the center of the street then and shoved Murphy out of the way, just as the car hit me fully._

" _Nicholas!" Murphy screamed as I hit my head on the street. "What the fuck did you do?!" she demanded then, a hint of familiarity in her voice as she presumably addressed me, or it could've been the driver._

 _The second to last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was the sound of not one but two cars screeching away from the scene—the first one immediate, the second one a few minutes behind. I heard the sirens then, and felt my eyes roll back into my head then, catching a glimpse of the pink ball in the sky that was the sun. I found I was chuckling then as that was the last thing I saw as I tried to breathe and hold on._

" _I love you...Murphy..." I whispered, and then it was black._

. . .

"Murphy!" I screamed, my eyes shooting open then as I took note of all the wires in me, and the unexpected pain in my head that went with it. I looked around then, seeing that I was hooked up to too many machines to count. I found the call box and pressed it, want to talk to a human and, quite soon, I was permitted that request.

The door opened then and a doctor stepped inside—older than I was, yet looking excellent for her age, and I caught her name as Dr. Bonner—and recognition flowed through me. "Nicholas Blomqvist?" she asked, looking up. "Hey, you're Gwen's lawyer," she said with a smile. "Or, one of them, anyway."

"How is she?" I asked, not really wanting to talk about myself.

"Wonderful. She and Geoff have worked everything out."

"And Drew?" I asked, wanting to know her news.

"Well, it's the early days yet, but he's going to have a sibling by the end of the year," Grace said with a smile. "Gwen is having the baby this time around."

"That's great," I said, trying to move in the bed, but the I.V. was pinning me down pretty hard and making it damn near impossible.

"But we're here for you, Nicholas—can I call you Nicholas?"

I managed to smile. "Wish you would."

She smiled. "Call me Grace," she replied, pulling a chair up to my bed. "Your father was here to sit with you—he's gone to call your mother. He mentioned she was in California?"

I nodded. "Yeah. My sister passed away a year ago and her good-for-nothing boss decided to hold onto her valuables in an attempt to sell them. When she realized they weren't worth as much as she thought, she thought it would be great to release them to her."

"Your mother apparently had her important meeting—I know that much—and is on a direct flight back here," she put in. "Is there anyone else you want us to call?"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "My girlfriend and I got into a bad fight, but she should probably be notified..."

"Could she have been behind this?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No. The car was trying to kill her, not me."

. . .

MURPHY'S POV

"So, you're telling me that some son of a bitch tried to mow you down, and you didn't think to tell me this earlier?!" Ian demanded.

We were in the airport—Iana and I—waiting to come home to Chicago. It had been a blissful three months, but I knew it was time to get back. I'd called her preschool to remind me of the date, and thankfully, we still had the weekend to get over our jet-lag. I turned and looked at Iana, who was very pretty in her pink little sundress; like me, she didn't tan, so I'd had to work double time to keep the both of us slathered in sunscreen.

"I'm sorry, Ian," I said, remembering that it was my turn to speak. "I know all of this is a lot, but it's been a hell of a summer..."

"Yeah, especially since I now fully understand what's going on," he replied.

I blinked. "What does that mean?"

"It means Nicholas has been calling nonstop, or dropping by the house unannounced," he replied with a groan. "Look, Murph, I understand why you wanted to get away from him—"

"I broke up with him," I said quietly into the phone.

"Wait. You did what?!"

"I told him we were done on my last night in town," I replied. "I just couldn't handle it anymore, Ian—what we had was toxic, and I-A-N-A doesn't need that."

Iana immediately snapped to attention. "Mama?"

"Hold on, Ian," I said, covering the mouth piece of my phone. "Mama is talking to Uncle Ian right now, sweetheart."

"Can I say hi?" she asked.

I smiled. "Not right now, darling," I replied, dipping into her bag and pulling out a book. "Why don't you read while I wrap this up? We'll be getting on the plane soon..."

Iana nodded, taking the book. "Okay, Mama," she said, opening it.

"Sorry about that," I replied, taking my hand off the mouth piece.

"How is she?" Ian asked.

I gave a nod, allowing myself to sigh into the phone—I couldn't bring myself to lie to Ian; not for long, anyway. "Asking a lot of questions, but I know she's happy that we're going home to see everyone," I said, and Iana turned to me and smiled for a moment before looking back at her new book. "I guess it can be expected—she has the intelligence of someone far beyond her years and an excellent memory. She understands that we're not a family of two—she's used to more people around..."

"I get that," Ian replied. "But you and Nicholas?"

I sighed, shoulders slacking. "Like I said," I replied. "I told him we were done." I stopped talking then, the sound of an announcement being made making my ears prick up. "They're about to start our boarding," I said.

Ian let out a sigh. "Okay."

"Okay," I said back to him.

"It's a nonstop flight, right?"

I scoffed into the phone. "Please. I wouldn't put Iana through a connecting flight until she's a few years older."

"Good on you," he said.

"So, I'll see you in about three hours, okay? Gotta factor in me driving home after somehow managing to escape the other airport..."

Ian laughed on the other side. "See you then," he replied.

. . .

I somehow managed to get through the Chicago airport quickly, leading Iana to baggage claim and keeping a good grip upon her hand. After we each got our rollers, were trooped through the airport, me keeping a good grip on her and my luggage. When we got to the correct lot, I fished the identifying piece of paper from my pocket, which would ultimately lead us to my car. When we arrived, I unlocked my doors and put our luggage into the trunk, before shutting it and guiding Iana to her car seat. I'd paid a pretty penny for my car to be able to stay there for so long, but it had been worth it, because Iana had met all her favorite Disney characters.

"Home, Mama?" Iana asked as I buckled her in.

I smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. "Yes, sweetheart," I replied. I shut her door and got into the driver's side door, pulling out of the parking lot and finding the most direct route to the exit. When we made it out, I got onto the freeway, feeling relieved that it was only four-thirty, and crossed my fingers that we wouldn't encounter an abundance of Friday after-work traffic.

We didn't hit much, and soon we were in the old neighborhood again, driving down the street past The Alibi Room. I smiled at the memories that were conjured from my brief working stint there, and knew I should stop in there to see Kevin at some point, or at least tell Ian I wouldn't mind if he came by the house. Once we cleared the main streets and got onto the side ones, we reached our block, and I could sense Iana's excitement from the back seat. I pulled into my customary parking space, getting out of the car and letting her out immediately, and she followed me to the trunk and helped with her own suitcase.

"Mama, we're home!" she crowed.

I smiled down at her, running my fingers through her raven hair. "Yes, sweetheart. You and I are home at last." I watched as Iana scampered through the yard and up to the front door, which soon opened and Ian stood there.

"Uncle Ian!" Iana shouted.

"Hey!" Ian said, bending down and scooping her up, giving me a look of sympathy as he pulled me in for a hug. "Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "No. Not now," I replied.

Ian nodded, taking my roller from me and placing it beside Iana's on the stairs. "Well, everyone's waiting, and I've told them no questions."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm not some celebrity, and they're not a bunch of reporters," I said, and shook my head at the thought of it.

Ian smirked. "Tell them that," he replied, ushering us into the living room.

. . .

I dropped off Iana at preschool the following day, knowing that she was two months premature of the cutoff age, but they seemed delighted to have her. On her second birthday, Rebecca had written me a glowing recommendation, and so Iana was accepted on sight alone. I gave her a kiss and told her I would be back for her later that afternoon, and Iana gave me a hug and was very accepting of the arrangement.

As I left the preschool that day, I hesitated for a moment, fully taking in that today was my first day back at the firm, and knowing that, despite Allie's kind text messages to the vague ones I'd sent to her, I knew something was bound to happen. Despite all that had happened in the span of nearly thirteen weeks, that Nicholas's and my last conversation still hit home. I'd been raw for weeks afterward—and still was slightly so—and saw going to Florida with Iana as a massive distraction, and one that I'd needed. I didn't know if there would be a tearful reunion or a rage-filled one; all I did know was that there'd been lying and pain brought forth from both sides, and running away was something I'd sworn never to do again, and I had.

I got into my car then and just sat there for a few moment—I had nearly half an hour before I was needed anyway, and I'd taken that time just in case Iana had needed a long goodbye. I shook my head then, smiling at myself, knowing that, most of all, I had to have faith in my daughter's sense of independence. Despite everything, she had taken it into her stride—not having a direct link to her biological father, just uprooting when I asked her to, and her constant cooperation with the goings-on—and had been amazing throughout. With my confidence jarred, I knew I could have some in her, I figured, as I started up my car and drove towards the firm.

I got into the parking garage and went to my usual space, relieved that nobody had taken it over in my absence. I got out of my car, my bulky bag coming with me, as I held it before me like a shield as I locked up my car and walked towards the elevator. Pressing the correct button, I rode it upstairs, almost anticipating someone waiting for me on the other side, and was almost scared when I saw that only the empty lobby was waiting for me. Pushing the thought from my mind, I made my way into the assistants area, smiling and waving to Rachel, who gave me a polite smile back and handed over my messages, which was very thick, due to my extended absence from the firm, and I gave a slight grin as I walked towards my office.

Letting myself inside, I wished that all thoughts of anxiety would leave me, but I knew such things were impossible to ask or wish for. Shutting the door as I flicked on my light, I hurried over to my desk and sat down, getting as close to it as I could, scattering the contents of my bag in front of me, wanting to just get started on some menial paperwork so that I would at least have something to do. I hadn't been given my latest case yet, and I didn't anticipate getting one, due to my recent behavior. In fact, I was almost expecting Allie or Hugo to barge into my office and demand to know what the hell I was doing there.

I put my head into my hands, massaging my temples; I knew I was exhausted, but the jet-lag couldn't have been a problem, due to the mere hour of a time difference. The summer had been amazing, though, if only for Iana's happiness alone. We'd spent a lot of the time walking, as she was too small to ride a lot of the rides alone, and I couldn't—obviously, I couldn't. Shaking my head at my recklessness, I was relieved when Fiona had come to my defense on the day of my homecoming, telling Debbie not to ask an abundance of questions. Lip had been considerate of that was well, rallying to my side and telling Debbie to leave me alone.

"Glad to be home?" Ian had asked, once Iana and Liam had been sent to bed, and the rest of our family had cleared out.

I sighed. "Yeah. You could say that."

Ian smiled. "You worried?"

"Worried about facing the inevitable music?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders. "Hey, like I always say, this is a bed of my own making..."

"You didn't get into this on your own, Murph."

I leaned back on the couch, looking up and meeting his eyes. "I ran again," I said softly. "After I swore I wouldn't again... I ran, instead of facing my problems."

"You think you're scared?" he wanted to know.

I shrugged. "I don't know—probably. I just don't want to get close to anyone. The physical part of it, I can handle. It's on the emotional level that I can't handle."

"It's probably because of Tina and Dr. Normal," Ian put in, and I nodded. "They didn't show you the love you needed—just the opposite."

I scoffed. "Yeah. Tina pushed me away as soon as Drake was born, and Dr. Normal beat all conceivable feeling of loving emotion out of me..."

"That's not true," Ian said quietly. "I mean, you love Iana, you love me, you love Fiona, Lip, Debbie, Carl, and Liam..."

I nodded. "Of course I love you—all of you."

"There's a disconnect with romantic love, then," he said quietly. "I think I have an idea of what you're afraid of..."

I sighed. "You would know just as well as anyone..."

"I think it's because the two times in your life you chose to love—first with Jessica and then with Lip—that circumstances happened, and they were taken away from you."

I sat up then, my eyes wide that somebody had finally put to words what I'd been feeling. "Oh, my god... How did you know?"

Ian smiled. "Simple guesswork—plus, I'm your twin," he replied, stating the obvious. "Jessica was physically ripped from you, and Lip was lawfully taken from you. So, you found something with Nicholas, but you couldn't address it, and, because of his troubled past, you thought that Josh was a better bet, and when he hurt you, you turned to the one person you wanted all along, Murphy—it's always been Nicholas. Hasn't it?"

I sighed. "I'm scared," I whispered.

"Just talk to him," he replied. "From what you've told me, all the cards are out now, and you've both successfully managed to hurt each other. If it's meant to happen, it'll happen. Regardless, he is going to want to be in your life, Murphy..."

The knock on the door jarred me then, and I lifted my head from my hands and straightened out the already-straightened papers on the top of my desk. "Come in," I said.

The door opened and Nicholas stood in the doorway for a moment, and there was no mistaking the pain in his eyes as my own heart hammered in my chest, just wanting to comfort him as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He hesitated for a moment, almost as if he wanted to say something emotional, but decided it was better to state an obvious fact. "So, you're finally back," he said.

I nodded. "I'm back."

Nicholas sighed then, appearing vulnerable before me. "Look, Murphy, I know that you said that we were done before you left. I understand that I hurt you, but that really hurt me, too. And the things you kept from me..."

"Look," I said, fighting the urge to get up from my desk and run to him. "We hurt each other, Nicholas, but we're both imperfect. Can't you see that?"

He nodded. "Clearly."

I sighed. "I know that we have to find a way to move past this somehow. If not as a couple, then as friends..."

"We were nearly always friends, Murphy," he replied, lowering his eyes. "But that's not what I want from you."

"I understand," I replied. "If you want me to leave the firm and find a job as a lawyer somewhere else, then I'll just...go."

"Murphy, no," he said, and our eyes locked together again. "I want to be with you. I know it's crazy, but we really had something between us. And despite everything—I'm sorry. I want to be with you again..."

I nodded, lowering my eyes. "Yeah," I said, the tears blinding my vision. "Yeah, I'm sorry. And I still want to be with you, too."

"Then what are we going to do?" he asked.

I sighed, looking back up at him. "I think we should start out with a clean slate—we've apologized for the past and it's done. Nothing to be done about it now."

Nicholas nodded. "Done."

"And next, if there are any more secrets between us, we need to get them out into the open, since we really want this to work."

"I went to see Jasmine over the summer," he replied.

I bit my lip. "Is Jared your son?"

He shook his head. "No, he isn't. Jasmine got engaged behind my back to a quarterback and he was transferred from here to LA, which is why she wanted to move so badly. Jared is this guy's child—I have the DNA test to prove it."

"I'll see it later," I replied. "Is that everything?"

Nicholas nodded. "On my end, yes."

I sighed. "Well, all right then," I said, allowing myself to get to my feet, my eyes not leaving Nicholas's face for a moment, which took on one of shock. "You weren't the only one with one last secret," I said quietly.

"You're...pregnant?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes," I said, placing my hand onto my stomach. "I'm twenty-three weeks. And don't you dare demand to know if it's yours, Nicholas, because of course it is."

Nicholas did the math in his mind for a moment. "After court," he said.

I sighed. "Yes."

"That day that Geoff punched me, and I had the black eye," he said quietly. "We went to my condo and you comforted me... I didn't use a condom."

"And I'd gone off the pill because of Iana," I said quietly. "They gave me mood swings, you remember that."

He nodded. "I remember."

I sighed. "I'm sorry I kept this from you, Nicholas, but this isn't something you tell someone over the phone after a fight..."

"Or when they're in the hospital."

I put my face in my hands then, never thinking once of Nicholas all bandaged up in a hospital bed as I found my shoulders shaking. "Right," I whispered.

"Murphy?" he asked, coming towards me then and placing his hands on my shoulders. "Are you crying?"

"Of course I'm crying!" I replied. "You mean a lot to me..."

Nicholas smiled. "And you mean a lot to me," he replied. "I love you."

I felt myself breathing shallowly then, shocked at the declaration that had finally come. "I love you, too," I replied.

Nicholas put his arms around me then. "And I'm happy," he replied. "Like I said, Iana's what changed things for me. I'm happy that we're having a child..."

"Children," I said softly.

Nicholas immediately pulled back from me then. "What?"

"I had an ultrasound on Saturday—the technician squeezed me in," I replied. "So, I already know what we're having..."

Nicholas rolled his eyes. "I would've wanted to be there..."

"I know—I'm sorry," I replied, lowering my eyes.

Nicholas reached down and pulled my chin up. "What are we having?"

"Twins," I replied. "Boys."

Nicholas grinned. "Boys? I'm going to have sons?"

"We're going to have..." I whispered, and then the pair of them decided to do backflips from inside me then, and I slowly guided his hands to my stomach. "We're going to have boys," I said, looking at him then.

Nicholas leaned in then and kissed me, and my arms wound around his neck then, my heart hammering throughout my body all over again. "I love you," he whispered to me again, and I savored each and every word.

"I love you, too," I whispered back.


	2. In The Air Tonight

Chapter Two: In The Air Tonight

NICHOLAS'S POV

Now that everyone was on the same page, Murphy began inviting me over almost immediately after we'd made up. Ian seemed pleased that he didn't have to hide anything from me anymore, and although I understood his reasoning, I didn't want my girlfriend hiding anything from me every again. Just a few days after we'd managed to work everything out, and after we'd put Iana to bed, we were lying in the darkness, speaking quietly, not wanting to wake her up. I had one hand on Murphy's stomach, and the other arm was around her shoulders, as we just stared up at the ceiling.

"Was it fun?" I asked her. "Florida?"

"Hmmm," Murphy said, reluctant to talk about a period that had been equally hard for us both. "I guess it was fun, on the shallow level of things..."

"You guess?" I asked, smirking in the darkness.

Murphy scoffed. "I felt so bad for Iana. I had to explain to her that it would be dangerous for me to go on the rides with her, because of the pregnancy. It wasn't that she wasn't listening; I just don't think she fully understood..."

"She understood in her own way," I replied, leaning over and kissing her forehead. "Aren't you the one who's always telling me how bright she is?"

Murphy shifted slightly, trying to get just the right amount of comfort for herself; now that we knew she was carrying twins, and two boys at that, I was convinced that they were physically exhausting her. "Ugh..." She said, not usually one to complain, but I could sympathize at how hard it was for her. "Four more months, four more months..."

"You know, Mom says that, if you need anything..."

Murphy leaned over to me then, kissing me, which never failed to start fireworks from inside of me and, if she hadn't been pregnant, and if Iana wasn't a few feet away, the things that I would do to her... "I know, she told me," Murphy replied, ending my thoughts. "Part of me wonders if the reason behind your parents forgiving me so quickly was because of the fact that I'm giving them grandchildren," she said quietly.

"Trust me, Mom is on your side here," I told her quickly. "Once she got the full story, she yelled at Dad and me for almost an hour. She says that she understands why you were keeping things from me, too, and although she thinks that honesty is always the best policy, she's standing with you on this matter."

"Well, us women need to stick together," she replied.

I laughed then, wondering if Murphy would believe me if I told her that I thought she never looked more beautiful now. The notion of her body growing with my child—our child—swayed me in a way that I would've never thought possible. When Jasmine had told me she was pregnant, something inside me had shut off, and I didn't care; however, when she told me that she wasn't, it was as if I was being given a second chance to be with Murphy, to have things the way I wanted them...

"Nicholas, we really should get some sleep," she said.

"Of course," I said, leaning down to kiss her again. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replied.

. . .

 _In the haze behind my eyes, I finally found sleep, and there I was, standing in my living room, holding tightly onto Murphy's arm. I was begging for her not to leave, and then she broke away from me, her feet pounding against the wooden floor of my house, out onto the cobblestone walk way, and out onto the sidewalk. I was at her heels, which is when I heard the sound of that Lincoln car screeching around the corner._

" _Murphy!" I yelled then, jumping off the sidewalk and shoving her out of the way, sending her body careening into the side of her car, and she let out a shout as she did so. I turned then to face the Lincoln, and my eyes widened at who was sitting in the driver's seat_...

My eyes shot open then and I turned to look at Murphy, who was sound asleep. It was close to six in the morning—the time when I would have to leave to return to my condo to shower and change for work—so I decided to get up. I dragged my hand away from the back of Murphy's head, and she muttered something in her sleep that I couldn't catch. I stepped into my shoes quickly then, not wanting to wake up her or Iana, and grabbed my phone and light jacket before I left her bedroom. I walked down the hallway, taking the main stairs to the front door and opened it, letting myself out and walking quickly towards my car.

I got inside to, shaking my head, wondering if the thing I'd woken up from was a dream or a memory, but the coincidences were starting to be too similar not to add up. I sighed, dragging my hand across my face and pulling out of the space I'd taken, just behind Murphy's car, the previous evening, and drove. I ended up at the police station, popping a piece of mint gum into my mouth so that I wouldn't be completely unprofessional, and dragged my hands through my hair to look somewhat presentable. Getting out of my car, I walked through the silvery dawn light and towards the main entrance, letting myself in.

"I need to talk to a detective immediately," I said, clearing my throat, not wanting to appear too anxious about this. "Preferably Mason Crowe. He's an old friend..."

The woman nodded. "Mason is in this morning," she said. "Ride the elevator up to the second floor, and then it's the fourth door to the right."

I nodded. "Thank you," I replied, walking over to the elevator and pressing the button. I tapped my foot as I waited, and when the doors opened, I stepped inside the empty box, pressing the second level button. The doors shut and took me up, opening a moment later; I turned to the right, mentally counting the doors until I arrived at the fourth one, and found that it was open, so I stepped inside.

Mason was sitting at his desk, looking pristine in a suit, and looked up as I stepped inside. "Hey, there he is!" he said, getting to his feet and pulling me to him, clapping me hard on the back. "I should say I'm surprised, but you professional types keep weird hours, too..."

I shrugged. "Hey, what can I say. I'm an early bird."

Mason shook his head. "Nah. You were always the night owl type." He looked me over then, and his eyes looked concerned. "Jesus, Nick. You look like you haven't been sleeping well. How's things with Murphy?"

"We're expecting, actually," I replied.

"Hey, congrats!" Mason replied. "When's the little tyke coming?"

"January," I said.

"What are you having?"

"Twins, boys," I said.

"Hey!" Mason said, clapping me on the shoulder. "That's great, man. But I'm sure you're not here about parental advice—I think Sarah would kill me," he said, mentioning his wife of nearly ten years. "What can I do you for?"

"It's about my accident, last June," I said quietly. "Listen, I know you're Human Trafficking, but you took my statement, and I'm much more comfortable with a familiar face..."

"Hey, think nothing of it," Mason said, motioning for me to sit. "Want some coffee, or should we just get right to it?"

I sighed. "Honestly, Mason, if I don't say it now, I don't think I'll have the courage to speak up about it..."

"Sure, sure." Mason sat back at his desk and pulled out his notepad. "Okay. Tell me what you remember about it, and we'll go from there."

"I have a suspect," I burst out then, not in the mood to be handled with kid gloves.

"Jesus, why didn't you say so?" Mason asked, shaking his head. "Okay. Who are we looking for then, Nick?"

I raised my eyes to Mason's green ones, knowing I had to spill it. "You're looking for a Joshua Elias Fairfax. He's a doctor, works at Mercy Hospital."

"Okay," Mason said. "We can work with that. Any proof?"

"He drives a Lincoln," I replied, "same make and model as the guy who hit me. And he was trying to kill Murphy, who's his ex, so..."

"All right," Mason said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "We're gonna find him, Nick."

I nodded. "I believe you," I replied.

. . .

MURPHY'S POV

I was shocked that Nicholas wasn't next to me when I woke up that Wednesday morning, but was relieved when he said he needed to get back to the condo early. I didn't mind; it was actually easier in the mornings not to have him around. Although my boyfriend was usually a welcome distraction, now that I had Iana to get to preschool on time, I really had to plan out my mornings accordingly. Also, there was the notion that I was pregnant, and now that I would have not one but three children to consider in a matter of months, I knew I couldn't automatically depend on Ian to just let me stay at the house. Iana was getting older, and would need her own bedroom, and my sons would need a nursery, plus a room for me, and maybe for Nicholas, if he thought that moving in together was still a good idea.

All these thoughts came at me from all sides into the following day and into the next, after I'd picked up Iana from preschool and was driving home with her. There was no word on a new case yet, and I thought it may have had to do with the fact that Hugo and Allie wanted to go easy on me, because of the fact that I was pregnant. Smiling to myself and their apparent consideration as I drove down our street, I came to a stop beside our house, parking quickly so that we could get inside. Fall was in full swing that first day of October, and as I got out of the car and moved to open Iana's door, is when I saw it.

There was a "For Sale" sign in for the house across the street, and my eyes widened at the notion of what could happen. Quickly, I pulled Iana from the back seat, both bags over each shoulder, and shut and locked my car behind me. I walked across the street, pulling a flyer from the compartment, and read about the homes' information. It was a four bedroom house, leaving room for another child, a guest bedroom, or in the case that the twins would one day want to have separate bedrooms. I noticed that it had only been on the market for a couple of days, but I also knew that I'd better be quick as I looked at the photographs. The house would need a bit of work, as most of these houses did, but something seemed to shift within me then as I considered a future with Nicholas, in our own house.

Once we were inside the house, I set Iana down and texted Nicholas, asking when he would be by, and he said in about an hour. I then called the realtor, asking for an appointment in an hour and a half, and they accepted. Smiling at my planning, I turned around then as Liam came into the house, home from school, and I pulled him into a hug.

"Hey, there, little man!" I crowed.

"Hey, Murphy," he said, pulling back and looking me over. "Is it really going to be another four months until the baby comes?"

I laughed. "Babies—remember, it's twins," I said. "And yeah..." I hesitated for a moment as he absorbed the information before walking into the kitchen. "Hey, can I ask you for a favor?" I asked as he grabbed an apple.

Liam shrugged, washing the apple in the sink before turning to face me. "Maybe," he said with a grin, biting into the piece of fruit. "Depends."

"There's a house for sale across the street," I said, and Liam raised his eyebrows. "I made an appointment to take Nicholas over to see it. Do you think you could watch Iana while we're over there?" I asked.

Liam nodded. "Yeah, sure," he said. "What's the place look like?"

I handed over the flyer. "It's four bedrooms, and I have plenty in savings to buy it, although I'm sure Nicholas will put his foot down," I said with a laugh.

"Isn't he the one who wants to live together so bad?" Liam asked, looking at all the pictures and smiling to himself.

I laughed. "Yeah, he wants us to live together, but I always told him that a condition was us living in the same neighborhood."

"So, you wouldn't be really leaving?"

"No, of course not," I replied, shaking my head. "There's an extra bedroom, so you could even spend the night sometimes if you wanted."

"Really?" Liam wanted to know, looking up at me. "I could come and sleep over?"

I smiled, pulling him into my arms, and he was quick to move the apple so that its juices didn't get onto my blouse. "You're my brother. You're always welcome."

When Nicholas arrived shortly thereafter, Liam took Iana upstairs and I waited for Nicholas in the living room. When he came inside, as I'd left the door unlocked for him, he came over and sat next to me, almost as if he was worried that I was sick or something. He waited for me to talk to him, but I was too excited to say much of anything, so he just took my hand.

"Murph, you okay?" he asked. "I drove here as fast as I could... Why are you just sitting there and smiling?"

I grinned at him. "Well, I made us an appointment," I replied. "Not a doctor's appointment," I said quickly, not wanting him to freak out. "A realtor appointment."

"A realtor? What...?" Nicholas cut himself off then, his eyes widening. "You found a house already?" he asked. "We weren't even looking..."

I nodded. "I know," I replied, pulling out the flyer. "My only conditions for moving was that everyone would have their own bedroom, and that we stay in the neighborhood."

"This is the house across the street," Nicholas said, looking through the photos. "It's in the correct price range, but it needs work..."

"A relationship needs work—it's just like a house," I replied. "I made us an appointment in twenty minutes, and we can look at it."

Nicholas smirked. "I think you've already made up your mind."

I grinned at him. "Maybe," I replied. "Is that a problem?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "This house is what you want," he went on, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. "So, let's go look at it."

. . .

Nicholas had to be at the firm early the next morning, so he left soon after dinner that evening and just after we'd put Iana to bed. I moved to help Ian with cleaning up the kitchen after Liam's bedtime came, but Ian insisted on doing it himself. I playfully shook my head at him as I sat at the table, drumming my fingers on top of it.

"Something on your mind?"

I nodded. "A few things..."

"Tell me," he said, drying a dish and turning around.

I bit my lip; I'd spoken to Liam and Nicholas about not spoiling the surprise about the house across the street, as I thought I should be the one to bring it up with Ian. "Nicholas and I looked at the house up for sale," I said, and he raised his eyebrows.

"The one across the street?"

I nodded. "That one, yeah."

"What did you think of it?"

I smiled, leaning back in my chair. "I really liked it, and Nicholas said we'd discuss potentially putting an offer on it."

Ian smiled. "You know you can stay here as long as you want."

I smiled at him. "Thank you," I replied, "but it's been three years. I have Iana now, and Nicholas is in my life, and then the twins are coming in January. We're a big family, Ian, but Nicholas and I need our own space for Iana and the boys..."

"You really want to live here?" he asked, gesturing around, indicating the neighborhood. "I'm sure you and Nicholas could find something else..."

I shook my head, somehow managing to get to my feet and crossed over to him. "No, we don't need anything better," I replied. "It seems like just yesterday that I found all of you again, and I'm not going to give that up, not for a minute. I can't."

"And how does Nicholas feel about that?"

"Nicholas wants me to be happy," I replied. "And he doesn't care where we live; he just wants us to live together."

Ian smiled, finishing the last dish and moving us back to the table. "I'm going to miss all of our late night talks here," he said.

I reached across the table and took his hands. "Hey, we're still going to talk," I told him. "I'm just across the street, and Liam's old enough to be home alone. And I'll bring Iana over all the time, and the boys, when they come. Don't worry—I'm just across the street," I said again. "I'm not saying goodbye, Ian."

Ian sighed. "I don't know. I guess I just liked the concept of having my long-lost twin sister right down the hall from me..."

"Well, now your long-lost twin sister's going to be right across the street," I said, laughing at how much I was driving the point home. "Look, you are my twin, and you are my best friend, and I am not, or ever, going anywhere."

"I know you're not," he replied. "But have you thought about the future-future? What if Nicholas gets some fantastic job in Los Angeles or something, or you get an amazing offer overseas? I mean, have the two of you even talked about that?"

I shook my head. "We haven't. And do you know why?"

"No."

"Because it wouldn't matter," I replied. "I wouldn't leave the South Side for anything. I was taken from here against my will at three months old, and now I have to face the facts that this is where I'm from, and I'm not going anywhere."

Ian scoffed. "You make it sound like you've been kidnapped."

I shrugged. "I mean, I guess, effectively speaking, I was," I replied. "Frank may have known about me later, but from the sound of it, Monica didn't tell him right away. He would've had to be privy to the adoption and fostering paperwork, and only her signature was on there. His name was on my birth certificate, but nothing else. I guess..." I shrugged. "I don't know. The 1990's... I don't know, they were a weird time—let's just say that."

"Wow, I never knew that he just didn't try to find you after everything went down..."

I shook my head. "I'm not surprised. I mean, this is fucking Frank we're talking about, Ian. I mean, he's not exactly Father of the Year..."

He shook his head back at me. "No, you're right. That's one title he'd never get."

I reached out and took Ian's hand again. "But I'm not going anywhere, and even if we do get the house, we haven't set a moving date yet. But I think you traditionally do that once you get the house in order..."

Ian smiled. "Just give me fair warning..."

I nodded. "Done," I replied.

. . .

I took a walk with Iana the following morning, wanting to get some one-on-one time with my daughter, given that the next several months would be filled with change. As we passed the similar houses of the neighborhood—my neighborhood, the one I'd been deprived of growing up—I found myself falling in love with it all over again, and the notion of me ever leaving it for all time seemed so foreign to me. Feeling my daughter's hand in mine, I lowered my eyes and looked at her, and felt all the more hopeful for the future Gallagher generation.

"Honey, you remember that Mama mentioned when we were in Florida that things would be changing over time?" I asked her.

Iana nodded, smiling up at me. "Yes, Mama," she replied. "You told me that you were having a baby with Nicky."

I smiled, squeezing her hand. "That's right, sweetheart. And you remember me telling you that Nicholas isn't your biological father? You remember what that means, right?"

"It means that he loves me, but he's not my real daddy."

I sighed, knowing exactly what she meant, but it was still difficult for me to hear such a thing in a child's language, no matter how advanced Iana was. "Yeah, baby, that's right," I replied. "But these babies are still your brothers, and they're going to love you so much."

Iana nodded again, deciding to skip a little bit down the sidewalk, but her legs were still so small that I didn't have to rush to keep up with her. "Am I going to get my own room when the twins are born, Mama?"

I hesitated for a moment, wanting to ease my way into this topic of conversation. "Baby, do you remember me showing you that sign across the street?"

"At the house, right? In the yard?"

"That's right, baby," I said, glad that she remembered, even though I'd only shown her several times since I'd seen it the day before. "Well, Nicholas and I were looking at it yesterday, and we're talking about us living there."

Iana stopped walking then, taking the opportunity to look up at me for a moment, her dark eyes fully absorbing what I had to say and, in all her seriousness, my heart hurt to see how much she looked like her father in those fleeting seconds. "Does that mean that we'll move in there, and not stay with Uncle Ian?"

I did my best not to automatically react at her deductive reasoning, and instead opted to squeeze her hand for a moment. "Yeah, honey. Of course, this day would have always come. I know how much you love living with Uncle Ian—I love it, too; he's my best friend, and my twin. But, we have to understand that we can't just stay with our family forever."

Iana blinked. "What do you mean, Mama?"

I knelt beside her, kissing her forehead. "Well, sweetheart, someday you're going to want your own place to live..."

"No!" Iana cried out then, throwing her arms around me. "No, Mama! I wanna stay with you! I don't wanna move—"

"Darling," I said, immediately putting my arms around her shaking frame, "it's okay. I meant not for a long, long time."

Iana pulled back, fixing me with a look so that she matched her Aunt Debbie to a T. "How long?" she asked, skeptical.

I smiled at her. "Sixteen years, at the very least," I replied. "You're not going anywhere until you're eighteen-years-old, with a diploma in your hand."

Iana brightened at that. "Okay, Mama!" she said, and I immediately straightened up, as I saw her moving into skip mode again.

I sighed, letting go of her hand as we turned the corner, coming up to our house, where she turned into the yard. "But if you're anything like your mother, you'll be done at fifteen, and will probably want to see the world..." I hesitated for a moment on the other side of the fence as she ran up the stairs and banged on the door. "...and if you're anything like your father, you'll know your way around a gun and escaping the law..."

"Murph?" Ian called, and I immediately snapped to attention as I saw him standing in the doorway, having already let Iana inside. "You okay?"

I shook my head, smiling at him as I stepped through the gate. "Yeah, totally," I said, making my way to the porch. "You?"

"As well as can be expected," he said, smiling at me and pulling me into a hug.

"Yeah?" I ask, pulling back halfway and peering up at him. "What could you possibly have to be sad about?"

He sighed. "Look, Murph, I know it's only across the street, but I feel like I'm losing an arm and a leg at the thought of losing my best friend—who is also my fucking twin—and my niece, all in one fell swoop..."

I shook my head at him, kissing his temple. "You're not gonna lose either of us, Ian, because it _is_ right across the street. And I'm not technically leaving—besides, Nicholas hasn't okayed the house fully yet."

"What are you gonna do if he finds somewhere better?"

"Easy," I replied, stepping into the house, "I'll tell him it's over, and buy the fucking house behind his back."

Ian raised his eyebrows. "You'd do that?"

"Hey," I said, moving to clear up Iana's toys in the living room for what must've been the five hundredth time that week, "I was without my family for over two decades. I'm not going to miss out on anything else. I know it's been a whirlwind—me moving here, finding out who I was, all those times I've run off, figuring out who I really loved—but this is serious talk now. Even if the man I love refuses to live where I want..." I raise my hands. "...then that's it. Because you and I are fucking family, Ian Gallagher—you're my fucking twin—and I am not going to let some bullshit thing like love get in the middle of that."

Ian smiled, crossing his arms. "Well, let's see what Nicholas has to say first."

I sighed. "Hey, the sooner he makes up his mind, the better."

. . .

Nicholas came over that evening after dinner, and I was a little surprised when he asked to speak to me alone. I took him out on the back porch, and we just sat there in silence in the autumn darkness for several minutes. The sirens were never that far off, and then there was the sound of neglected children yelling from a nearby alley, but I couldn't help but think that there was something unspoken between us.

"Okay," I said, after we'd sat out there for over five minutes, and turned to look at him. "I don't know what the fuck is going through your head right now, Nicholas, but we made a fucking deal about no more secrets. If something's wrong—like the fucking DNA test from Jasmine, and you have a fucking kid out there—then fucking spill it. I'm sick and tired of these games, and now that I've come clean, I have nothing to hide. So spill it, Blomqvist."

Nicholas sighed, setting down his bottle of beer onto a step below where we sat and momentarily put his head into his hands, rubbing his temples. "I went to see my buddy Mason Crowe over at the station a couple days ago..."

"Jesus Christ," I said, my eyes widening. "What happened? Why did you go back there? Are you all right?!"

Nicholas raised his eyes to mine. "It was the night that I left early. I woke up a good half hour before the alarm went off, and I didn't want to wake you..."

"I don't give a fuck about that, Nicholas!" I cried. "Just...tell me. Why did you leave without being communicative?"

He sighed. "I had a dream," he replied, and I gave him a look like he was crazy. "One of those weird flashback things that comes when you're sleeping..."

I nodded. "Okay..."

"It was about the accident," he replied, and my blood ran cold.

"The accident?" I asked, hearing the car screeching in my mind, and the sensation of Nicholas's hands on my back as he shoved me out of the way, which caused me to land, hard, upon my car, while he lay, bloody and broken on the street, and I'd just left him there...

"Yeah," he replied, reaching for his beer in the darkness and taking another swig. "I remembered who did this to me, and was able to describe the car. I gave the description to Mason, and he said they'd look into it. Got the call today that my suspicions were correct, and they're on a manhunt for the son of a bitch..."

"Josh," I said, cutting him off, and Nicholas immediately whipped around to look at me. "I thought I was crazy," I said, lowering my eyes, "but I'm remembering certain things about that night, too—it comes in flashes, like the night that Iana was conceived..."

"Murph?"

I bit my lip. "I yelled at him," I said quietly, my eyes glazing over with tears. "I fucking yelled at him, wanting to know why he'd done this, before he sped off... He wanted to kill me," I whispered to him then, feeling myself shaking at my words. "Josh wanted to fucking kill me, and I just ran off when he got to you first... It's all my fault..."

"Murphy..."

"No!" I said, getting to my feet. "This—all of this—is my fault... I can't do this," I said then, my voice filled with determination.

"Can't do what?" Nicholas asked, getting to his feet as well. "What are you talking about, Murphy? What can't you do?"

"This—you and me," I said, motioning between us. "You must've withheld this information for a reason, Nicholas... And it's because you can't trust me."

Nicholas moved to reach out to me then. "Murphy..."

"No," I said, shrinking back from him and shaking my head. "You can't trust me, and I left you bloodied in the fucking street..."

"You made the 9-1-1 call—"

"Yeah," I said, scoffing to myself. "And a lot of good that did. Yes, you survived, and I thank god for that, Nicholas, but I can't keep waiting around for you to trust me..."

Nicholas raised his eyes to mine. "So, what are you saying?" he asked, and his voice and eyes were filled with pain. "Are you saying you want some space?"

I shook my head. "Not some space..."

"What are you saying, Murphy?" Nicholas demanded then, his voice filled with desperation then, as if someone was taking his life away.

I raised my eyes to his, not wanting to hurt him, but also knowing that he'd hurt me so many times that I couldn't allow myself to be hurt anymore. "I'm saying we're done."

"Murphy, no—"

"Yes," I said, fighting hard for my voice not to break. "Until you can trust me, I can't trust you, Nicholas, and without trust, we can't be together."

"But," Nicholas said as I placed my hand upon the door and opened it, "I love you."

I turned around to look at him then, my vision swimming with tears. "Don't," I replied, my voice hard, as I pushed open the door and slammed it behind me.


	3. Hello, I Must Be Going

Chapter Three: Hello, I Must Be Going

As soon as I stepped inside, Ian shut the front door—presumably from saying goodnight to Trevor—and stepped back into the living room. Immediately, when he saw me, he looked concerned and came to my side, looking me over for a moment before looking behind him. It was then that he saw nothing but the expression on my face and his eyes locked to mine once again, as if searching for something.

"Oh, my god, what did Nicholas do now?!" he demanded, speaking through his teeth.

I shake my head. "Nothing," I replied.

"Stop covering for his ass!" Ian yelled, pulling away from me and dragging his hands through his hair in exasperation. "Jesus Christ, Murphy! Stop making excuses and fucking tell me what that fucker did to you!"

I sighed, attempting to blink the tears from my eyes, which only resulted in them spilling down my face. "He doesn't trust me..."

"What?"

I shook my head, leaning back against the door then and crossing my arms. "Nicholas doesn't trust me."

"Shit," Ian replied. "What did he say to you?"

"It's what he didn't say," I tell him. "He didn't tell me about Josh being the one who was driving the car in the accident... And I didn't tell you that Josh tried to kill me..."

Ian shook his head, turning away from me and looking as if he too would begin crying any moment now. "Fuck," he whispered. "That jackass has gone too far this time," he said, and walked back to the front door then, grabbing his jacket.

"Ian?" I said, running forward, tying to tear his jacket from his hands. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"That fuckhead hurt you one too many times, Murphy," he replied, attempting to pry his jacket from my hands to put it on. "I'm going to put a stop to it..."

"No!" I screamed. "You can't!"

"Why?" he demanded, staring down at me. "Give me one good reason, Murph. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go to his overpriced condo and beat the shit out of him."

"Because you're too important to me, Ian..." I whispered, my voice broken.

"What does my importance have to do with any of this?"

"If you even do manage to best Nicholas, Ian, you could be brought up on charges of assault, and you'd be tried as an adult," I said, trying to keep my voice strong. "We're twenty-four, Ian—twenty-fucking-four. That's an adult if I've ever seen one."

Ian shook his head. "It'd be worth it," he replied.

"Yeah, for you, maybe," I say, shaking my head at him as I attempted again to yank the jacket from his grip. "Don't do this, please. I'm begging you."

"What about Nicholas?" he asked. "Plead his case. Why don't you want me to go over there and beat the shit out of him, Murphy? Come on. Give me a reason."

"Because, I..." I averted my eyes then, hating having to admit it to anyone—for I'd barely been able to admit it to Nicholas, and that was after he'd said it already—but also knowing that I had to make this good. "...I fucking love him, okay?" I whisper.

"Despite everything he's done to you, and what you've done to him?" Ian asked, and I turned back to face him. "You still fucking love him?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I replied, finally letting go of his jacket and stumbling backwards. "Life is fucking crazy, isn't it?"

Ian looked down at his jacket then, mulling over what I'd said. "So, what do you want me to do here, Murph? Want me to kick his ass?"

I sighed, leaning back against the staircase. "Your life, Ian."

"Fine," he said, opening the door.

I felt something hitch from inside me then, and as he attempted to move out into the night, I darted forward and slammed the door before he could move another inch.

"Fuck, Murphy!" Ian yelled. "You could've taken my nose off!"

"Better that than Nicholas calling the cops on your ass after you beat him senseless!" I screamed back, and he kept his back to me. "I ended things with him tonight, Ian, and I don't know how I'm gonna cope if you run out there and slam your fists repeatedly in his face just to get some momentary satisfaction! You say it's on my behalf, but you're only doing it for you! I can't lose both of you, Ian," I said, my voice trembling then as he turned around to look at me. "I can't. I'm literally begging you right now..."

"To what?" he asked, and I could tell he was reaching his breaking point.

"Don't," I whispered, my voice quavering in my throat. "Don't go out there and beat him up. Not just because I'm in love with the son of a bitch, but because I can't lose another piece of myself, Ian. Please..."

Ian scoffed. "You lived two decades without me—without all of us," he replied. "What's one night of me in jail?"

I grabbed him by the shoulders then and slammed him up against the door. "If you take a fucking step out of this house, I am calling the cops myself!" I said, my voice beyond angry. "Then I'll call Fiona and Lip to stand as your fucking jailers with me if I have to! And hey, while I'm at it, why don't I call up Trevor, huh? He probably wouldn't like it if you tried pulling this shit either!" I said, finding my voice rising. "And then I'll call up Allie and Hugo, tell them that I broke up with their son tonight and that my fucking twin brother is fucking pissed at him for not trusting me, so I have to keep an eye on him so he doesn't slip out at night and fucking beat their son's ass! Should I do all that, Ian, because I need that job, and I sure as shit gotta hang onto it because I'm pregnant with fucking twins, and I've got Iana to support..."

Ian stared at me then, looking as if he'd seen a ghost for a moment before he placed his hand on mine. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice quavering this time. "Why don't I just head upstairs to bed and see you in the morning?"

I hesitated there for a moment, watching him round the corner and go up the stairs before I sighed, knowing that I couldn't trust him completely. I followed him then, just a few steps behind him and hoping he wouldn't somehow escape out a window. I grabbed the baby monitor from my bedroom and trudged into his room behind him, where he had nearly changed for bed and looked at me strangely.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I sighed. "I'm bunking with you tonight," I replied, setting down the monitor on his bedside table before I took off my sweater and jeans, which left me in a tank top and a pair of panties, and left on my socks for good measure. "I'd say don't get any ideas," I said, waiting for him to get into bed, but he was so shocked that he didn't move, "but you're fucking gay, so..."

Ian sighed. "Fine, you can stay," he replied. "Get into bed."

"Nu-uh," I replied, crossing my arms, "you first."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

I scoffed. "Because a pregnant woman's bladder is a ticking time bomb at all hours of the day and I refuse to climb over your sorry ass in the dark just to get to the bathroom. And I am not about to piss on you—that's Lip's job to do to Frank."

Ian smirked, rolling his eyes and climbing into bed. "Fine," he grumbled.

"Good," I replied, getting in after him. I lay there for a moment, and was surprised when he just draped his arm around my shoulders. "Ian?"

"Yeah?"

I sighed, scooting back so as I was closer to him. "Sorry about all the yelling," I replied.

He shrugged. "Hey, we're Gallagher's," he replied. "We're a weird bunch."

. . .

I had successfully managed to avoid Nicholas on a one-on-one basis at work; after I'd briefly explained the situation to Allie, Allie agreed that Nicholas should adhere to keeping away from me solo for a while. I knew that she wanted us to work things out and get back together—hell, I'd even heard Hugo yelling at Nicholas a few times—but I just couldn't imagine me being with someone who didn't and wouldn't trust me. When all was said and done, even though it hurt beyond belief, I was tired of living that way.

I took off work early on Wednesday and went down to the diner, knowing that I needed to see my sister before I lost it completely. Nicholas had cornered me in the staff longue earlier that day—because my office was off-limits—for an important conversation. I had done my best to ignore him, considering what he'd put me through recently, but the sound of his voice really didn't help matters. Of course, I figured to myself, if he wanted a joint custody arrangement, there would officially be hell to pay.

"Fine, I'll talk," I said, turning around to face him. "Now, what the fuck do you want?!" I demanded then, my voice harsh.

Nicholas looked surprised at my tone, but not much should've surprised him these days. "Look, I just wanted to give you an update on Josh..."

"Oh, _now_ you want to give me updates on my bat-shit crazy ex-boyfriend who tried to fucking kill me! How nice!" I said, bustling past him to get a water bottle out of the fridge. "It only took me fucking dumping your ass for you to grow a pair and tell me..."

Nicholas sighed. "There was a manhunt," he said quietly, and I turned around to face him. "They got him earlier this morning—just got off the phone with them."

"Joy," I replied, acting like I didn't really care.

"Listen, he was in Texas—Houston," he went on, his voice going rapid-fire, as he knew he likely didn't have a lot of time to spill it. "According to reports, he was hiding out at Chrissy Andrew's mother's house..."

"Shit, the bitch he cheated on me with—nice!"

"Yeah, I guess," Nicholas said awkwardly. "They're driving him back up here, and he should be in town by tomorrow."

"Great," I said, gripping my bottle of water so tightly that it might explode. "That's fan-fucking-tastic, Nicholas. I _really_ appreciate the information—thank you!" I said, clapping him on the shoulder before I got the hell out of there.

Blinking through my veil of tears as I attempted to see through my windshield—even though the day was sunny and bright, for once not matching my thoughts—I pulled up in front of the diner in my usual way. I grabbed my purse and got out of the car, slamming the door behind me and walking up to the main doors, pulling them open and attempting to compose myself. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I stepped inside, looking for Fiona, and seeing Lip first.

"Lip?" I asked, stepping forward.

"Murph?" came his reply, as he stepped forward, looking me over. "Shit. What happened? Are you okay?"

"No," I replied, trying and failing to get a handle on things as I threw myself into his arms and hugged him for all it was worth. "No, I'm not okay..."

"Looking for Fiona?" he asked.

I sighed. "Well, I was, but..."

"She took off early today—wasn't feeling too well," Lip said, holding me back for a minute to stare at me. "You are not okay right now, are you?"

I shook my head. "No," I said, "I'm not."

"Okay," Lip said, turning to a member of the staff. "Gotta cut out early!" he said, untying his apron quickly and throwing it onto the counter.

"Why?" one of the women demanded.

"My fucking sister needs me, for Christ's sake!" Lip said, glaring at her. "Hey, I've gotta grab my jacket, and we can get outta here, okay?"

I nodded. "Sure. I'll be outside."

"Great," Lip said. He hesitated for a moment before kissing my forehead, before slipping into the back to grab his jacket.

I sighed, thinking that this day could possibly afford to be better as I stepped outside.

The sun was still shining as I moved one way down the sidewalk, then back up again, not at all sure how long Lip would take. When he emerged from the restaurant, he saw the look on my face and put his arm around my shoulders, while I found myself automatically leaning down and putting my head on his shoulder. We just walked like that—away from the diner, away from my car—in silence for several minutes until Lip spoke.

"Okay. I haven't heard from you or Ian in days—what the fuck is going on at the house?" he asked, brotherly concern in every word.

"Lotta shit," I replied.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning his head slightly to catch my expression. "Tell me about it."

I took my free hand and ran it over my face before clearing my throat. "Ian mention that Nicholas stopped by late almost two weeks ago?"

"Almost two weeks ago...? I thought he was crashing at the house most nights, because of the babies and all, and that you were thinking of buying the house across the street..."

" _I_ ' _m_ still thinking of buying the house across the street," I replied, "because Nicholas is no longer part of the equation."

Lip stopped walking then, and pulled me around so that I was standing opposite him. "Okay, tell me what the fuck Nicholas did."

I rolled my eyes. "Ian pretty much said the same thing, and that turned out swimmingly..." I muttered, rolling my shoulders.

"Yeah? How's that?"

I looked away from him. "Slammed him up against the wall to prevent him from leaving the house to go to Nicholas's condo," I replied.

"What the fuck?!" Lip demanded.

"Hey!" I said, turning back to him. "Ian was going to fucking beat Nicholas's ass! I had to stop him because I couldn't let our own brother go to fucking jail!"

Lip sighed. "Murphy."

"What?"

"What. Did. Nicholas. Do?"

I bit my lip and rolled my eyes again. "What are you thinking?"

Lip scoffed, trying to make sense of what he was supposed to say. "Gee, Murphy, I really don't know. The fucking son of a bitch has a fucking assault charge on his rap sheet!" he said, turning back to me and gripping me by the arms. "The last thing I want is someone beating up my little sister and her not allowing comeuppance to happen! Now what the fuck did Nicholas do to you, or so help me, _I_ ' _ll_ be the one beating his ass!"

I smiled then, my eyes filling with tears. "Oh, my god..."

"What?!" Lip demanded. "What's wrong?!"

"Nothing—just these damned hormones," I said, dashing the tears from my eyes. "I'm sorry, but you just called me your little sister... I don't know. It meant a lot to me..."

Lip sighed. "Look, Murph, I know things were tense for a while there—you know, with us falling for each other and all before we knew... Anyway," he said, and we immediately found ourselves looking away from each other in mutual discomfort, "you are my little sister, and I'd do anything to help you, and I don't want to see you hurt..."

I smiled, stepping up to him then and kissing his forehead. "I promise you, Nicholas has never put his hands on me... Well," I said, putting my hand on my stomach, "not in the way you're thinking of, anyway."

"So, you ended things with him, but he didn't hurt you?"

"Oh, no, he hurt me," I replied, running my hands through my hair, "but not with his fists. With his fucking actions..."

"Yeah? Did that fucker fuck somebody else?!"

"Hey," I said, smacking him on the arm, "I know we swore never to discuss this again, but can you honestly say that you'll forget our one night together?!" I hissed under my breath.

Lip looked away. "No."

"Now, do you really think that Nicholas would leave me?"

"Christ, Murph," Lip said, growing uncomfortable, "no!"

"Well, there you go—he didn't cheat on me," I replied.

Lip sighed, dragging a free hand through his hair. "Okay... So, he didn't hit you, or cheat on you, so why'd you break up with him?"

"Honestly?"

"Well, I'm your older brother," he said, spreading his hands. "So, yeah. Honestly."

"He doesn't trust me," I said quietly.

Lip blinked. "He doesn't...?"

"Trust me. Yeah," I said, finding that I was laughing and crying at the same time. "Josh was the one behind the wheel that night, before I packed off Iana and me to Florida..."

"Wait. Are you serious?" Lip demanded.

I nodded. "Completely," I replied, crossing my arms. "This is the second time he hasn't told me the identity of someone who tried to kill me..."

Lip looked up. "You didn't know?"

I sighed. "I remembered, as soon as we got on the subject," I replied. "I remembered yelling at him and demanding to know why he'd do that..."

"Run Nicholas over?"

"That, I guess, or attempt to run me over—I don't remember that," I said, feeling my hands gripping the insides of my arms. "All I can tell you is, Lip, that all the fucked up shit that happened to me over the years, is locked away somewhere in my brain. Even I don't want to be there when it comes out."

"You think it'll come out?" he asked.

I sighed. "It almost did," I replied.

"When you had the breakdown?"

I looked away from him. "Look, Lip, I don't blame you for it, really..."

"What?" he asked. "Wait. Blame me?"

I just stared at him for a moment before I spoke. "It started right after you told me that you wished I wasn't your sister, and that you wanted Iana to be yours," I replied, my voice shaking with sobs as the tears came back. "I don't blame you—not for any of it. I was reaching the breaking point for a long time..."

"Murphy..."

"No, please, don't," I said, when I saw he was trying to walk away. "Don't go, Lip," I said, and put my arms around him then, and I felt immediate relief when his arms came around me and just held me, too.

"I'm not going, Murphy," he replied.

I sighed. "Thanks, Lip."

"You're my sister," he replied, and I looked up at him, "and I'm glad you're my sister, and I'm glad that Iana isn't mine..."

I nodded. "But?"

"But I wish she wasn't Mickey's either," he said. "For Ian's sake."

I laughed aloud then. "I know—I'm with you," I replied. "If there was one thing I'd take back, it's Mickey being Iana's father."

"You could take back so many things—your adopted family, them lying to you for so many years, what Dr. Normal did to you... Why would you want to take back that?"

I smiled. "Because, no matter what he says, it hurt Ian," I replied. "If there's one thing I never want to do in my life, it's hurt Ian."

"And Nicholas?"

I bit my lip. "No, I think that ship has sailed..."

"You're having kids with him," Lip said with a smile. "Something may happen."

I shook my head. "I don't know..."

"Hey, anything's possible... Look, why don't we give Fiona a call? Let's fix you up with a chocolate crème pie and give our older sister a ring?" he asked.

I laughed. "Sounds good to me."

"I'll heat up a slice," he said with a laugh then, putting his arm back around my shoulders before turning us around and walking us back to the diner.

. . .

When I got home later that night, despite her protests, I put Iana down for a nap before dinner, because, whether she liked it or not, she needed one. I found myself just lying on the couch, waiting for something to happen, not unlike the early days of me living in Chicago, in my apartment, waiting for Lip to call me for a date, or Kevin to call me to work. I smiled, and remembered the simpler times of me working nights at The Alibi, and just trying to make sense of the new life that I'd afforded myself. Once I'd cut off my old family and started just living for me—and for the family I was a part of all along, plus my clients, and my daughter—I found that I was happier on the whole...

"Long day?"

I opened my eyes then to a combination of the voice and the scent of something delicious. "I guess you could say that, yeah," I replied, getting to my feet. I hesitated for a moment before I crossed the space put between Ian and me, and just put my arms around him. "You don't know how good this feels..."

"Being in a real man's arms again?"

I let out a noise then—a combination of a scoff and a groan—and shoved him backwards. "A real man wouldn't say that!"

Ian laughed. "Well, I'm your brother, so I guess that would make me a real man..."

I crossed my arms, quickly growing impatient. "Please, I was probably kicking your ass day and night in the womb, mister..."

He grinned. "If you weren't pregnant, I'd ask for a rematch."

I tried my best not to laugh at him. "Oh, come the fuck on! When I was pregnant with Iana, I could still best you in a fight."

He shook his head. "Maybe I was tired that day, or maybe I didn't want to do my niece any permanent damage..."

I rolled my eyes. "You're such a fucking dick," I replied, peering around him to see a bag full of to-go food. "Ooh, what did you get tonight?" I asked.

"Philly cheesesteaks," he replied.

I scoffed then, turning around then and gently punching him in the chest. "Dammit, Ian. One minute you make me hate you, and then the next one you make me love you again." I stuck out my lower lip then in a pout. "Why do you do this to me?"

He sighed. "Talked to Lip today."

"Oh," I said, sighing a little then as I inched towards the bag of sandwiches, as the boys had suddenly become animated in their pursuit of dinner. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ian said. "He said you went by the diner."

I nodded. "Yeah. Took off early."

"Any particular reason why you did?"

I sighed, my shoulders deflating. "I was feeling overwhelmed..."

"Really? Why?"

I bit my lip before I permitted myself to turn around, hating myself that my pregnancies had officially allowed themselves to take over my emotions completely. "Because Nicholas told me there was a manhunt out for Josh," I replied.

"A manhunt?"

"Yeah," I said, looking away from him.

"Did they catch him yet?"

I nodded. "Yeah—caught him this morning. Bringing him back."

"Back? Where'd he go?"

"Texas. Houston," I said, crossing my arms again.

Ian stepped forward. "You know, Murph, you don't have to do that..."

I looked up at him. "Do what?"

"Close yourself off like this," he said, and gently pulled my arms from their crossed position, so that I was just standing normally in front of him. "Stop putting up barriers and get over here, Murph."

I shook my head at him. "How do you know?"

"How do I know what?"

"Me," I replied. "How do you know me so well?"

"Because I'm your brother—your _twin_ brother," he replied. "And I don't care what any birth certificate says—I don't care if we have different fathers. You're my fucking twin sister—not a maternal half-sister or whatever the fuck they want to call it nowadays. You're my fucking twin full sister, for all I care, Murph. Nothing will ever change that."

I smiled up at him. "Nothing," I replied, allowing myself to step into his arms.


	4. Don't Hold Back

Chapter Four: Don't Hold Back

I dropped off Iana at preschool that morning and sped right over to the firm, knowing that the day would likely be filled with boring paperwork and filing, but it beat sitting at home and watching my belly expand in this pregnancy. When I arrived at the firm and stepped off the elevator, I was immediately filled with a combination of dread and anger when I saw that Nicholas appeared to be waiting for me. Despite my attempts to simply walk through the lobby area, like a parasite, Nicholas followed me, glued to my hip like some desperate intern who thinks that they're amazing because they had a 4.6 GPA all through school—or, at least, when your GPA started to matter.

"What do you want, Nicholas?" I asked, stopping in front of Rachel's desk and smiling at her, taking my messages and waving to her as I moved back towards my office.

"How are the boys?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"They're fine—now ask me what you really want to ask me so I can work," I said, pushing open my office door and standing in the doorway, preventing him from coming inside.

He sighed. "Okay," he said. "I gave someone your number and I'm hoping that you'd be willing to take the call."

I crossed my arms. "Personal number, or office line?"

"It's not a client or a prospective one—he's an old friend."

I scoffed. "Okay, fine. Who is this person and what do they want from me?"

Nicholas looked away from me, leading me to believe that this was a person that was not to be fucked with, under any circumstances. "My old friend, Mason Crowe," he replied. "He's going to be calling to give you an update on Josh."

"Great," I said, turning my attention towards my messages and flipping through them—nothing new or exciting, and mainly people that I'd met through networking or from Allie, who were congratulating me on my pregnancy. "Thanks."

"No problem," Nicholas said, and stepped away, leading me to go into my office and shut my door behind me.

I crossed the room and placed my things down on my desk, spotting a picture of me, Iana, and Nicholas—taken over our first summer together—and immediately opened a desk drawer and shoved it inside. I didn't need a picture of Nicholas smiling at me, and I certainly didn't need to be reminded of what might have been. Shaking my head at my stupidity of getting involved with a bosses' son, I placed my head in my hands, ignoring the hot tears which somehow managed to escape my eyes, and nearly didn't hear my phone ringing.

"Hello?" I said into it, clearing my throat. "Hello?" I said again.

"Hi, there. Is this Murphy Gallagher?"

"Speaking," I replied.

"Hey, Murphy—can I call you Murphy?"

I had the guts to laugh into the phone. "Depends on who's calling."

"Detective Mason Crowe," replied the caller.

"Oh, of course, Detective Crowe. Please call me Murphy."

"Then call me Mason—the thugs call me 'Mase'," he said, and we laughed together. "Listen, Murphy, I'm sure Nicholas mentioned the reason for my call."

"Something about Josh Fairfax?" I asked.

"Exactly," Mason replied. "We've got him back in the South Side as of six a.m., and he's a pretty unhappy camper right now."

I chuckled darkly. "I can't imagine why."

"I'm going to be questioning him—my partner and I—and Nicholas played the old friend card to get you to listen in, if you're interested."

I sat straighter in my chair. "He what?"

"Yeah. We normally don't allow civilians to witness the proceedings—and if their attorney unexpectedly walks in, we have someone standing by to remove you immediately. It's all very hush-hush," Mason explained. "However, Nicholas pleaded your case successfully—which makes sense, because he's a lawyer and all—and we'd be happy to accommodate you and your potential viewing pleasure. If you're interested."

I forced a smile to my lips. "Tell your partner that I'd be happy to stand and watch the little son of a bitch squirm," I replied.

Mason laughed on the other side of the phone. "I like your spunk, Murphy," he replied. "We'll be questioning him around noon. Does that work for you?"

I nodded. "Yes, but I can't stay long. I have to pick up my daughter at one."

"We'll be sure to get to the good stuff quickly, then," Mason said. "I guess we'll see you around noon, then, Murphy."

"See you then, Mason," I replied, cutting the call.

I lowered my phone onto my desk then, doing my best not to drop it completely at the notion of what Nicholas had done for me. I swallowed then, wondering immediately what he would want in return for this fantastic favor, and that worried me. I found myself lowering a hand to my stomach then, wondering if he would go back to his old ways, his old crew, and do something psycho like demanding his sons for collateral.

Picking up my phone again, I found that my hands were shaking ever so slightly as I pressed my contacts app. I scrolled through, passing Carl, Debbie, Fiona, and Ian, until I hesitated on a number, just below my twin's. I hesitated; I'd automatically had data from my former cell phone put upon this new one—after an accident involving Iana and a bathroom toilet had rendered my former cell phone dead at the scene—and I'd never called this number. Shaking my head, and almost wondering if it still worked, I pressed the number then, hesitating.

It rang three times, before there was a clicking sound on the other end. "Scarlett?" the voice asked, rising an octave due to shock.

I sighed. "It has been a long time," I replied.

"How are you, Scar?"

I smirked then—Lip hadn't been the first significant other to call me by that nickname. "It's actually Murphy now, Jess—or just 'Murph' to family..."

"Jesus," Jessica replied, laughing on the other end of the phone. "What have you been up to since Dr. Normal walked in on us?"

"Well," I said, turning around and looking out the window. "I found out I was adopted, so I moved to my birthplace."

"Yeah?" Jessica asked. "Where's that?"

"Chicago," I replied, "South Side... How's New York?"

. . .

 _It didn't start out that way with me and Jess—in fact, when I first met her, I thought she was a prissy know-it-all with a too high GPA and a stick up her ass. Of course, my GPA was just as high as hers was, and I was way too antisocial to associate with her upper crust crowd. Even though we were teenagers, the social hierarchy seemed to change overnight, and while I was skipping up grades, she was skipping up bra sizes. By the time my graduation whirled around, she was the hottest girl in the sophomore class, and I was just a senior who was a total virgin and a nerd who never took her nose out of a_ Torts _book for two seconds. It all began when Jess wanted to take a break from her clique, and Rosalie Farrow just wasn't having it. Rosalie said that taking running start classes—essentially taking college classes as a high school student so that you could graduate college sooner—was fucking stupid, and someone like Jess shouldn't be caught dead doing it._

" _Lose your way?" I'd asked her, sitting in my own private nook in the library. I always sat away from the computer section; I'd bring my own laptop and sit in the back, towards where the old newspapers were, because newspapers were considered obsolete by our generation and, therefore, it was a quiet area to work. "I think the pop culture magazines are found downstairs, where the library computers are..."_

 _Jess blinked then, her green eyes looking me over then. "Don't I know you?"_

" _Yeah," I said, scoffing a little as I turned back to my computer screen, where I was writing an essay on how social etiquette for women had changed over the centuries—it was a boring subject matter, to say the least, but I planned on peppering it with how men back in the day were raised to be a bunch of self-entitled assholes. "I'm Mary fucking Poppins. Good to meet you, Jessica Silvers. Now run along and see if the pop culture magazines have any free makeup samples left that you can use..."_

" _I_ knew _I knew you from somewhere!" Jess replied then, sitting down immediately in my nook, which caused me to draw my feet back and away from her._

" _Sure... Just sit. Make yourself comfortable," I grumbled under my breath, going back to my internet taskbar and reading an article from some local newspaper from over a hundred years ago—I think the term "debutante ball" was being used..._

" _I'm sorry—am I bothering you?"_

 _Something in her voice made me look up. "No, I'm sorry," I said, putting on sickly sweet voice before saving my document and closing my laptop. "I've got to get back to my dorm. My next class is at eight tomorrow and I wouldn't want to miss it."_

 _Jess reached out then and slammed her hand on the top of my laptop. "Now I recognize you. I mean, how could I not?"_

 _I successfully managed to pull my laptop from her grip and put it back into its case, which I would always tote around campus. "Meaning what?"_

" _Meaning that you never go without_ Torts _, Scarlett Davies."_

 _I sighed, doing my best not to roll my eyes. "Look, Jess..."_

" _Are you Scarlett Davies or aren't you?"_

 _I scoffed. "Okay. Yeah. You caught me," I said, holding up my hands as I turned back to face her. "I'm Scarlett fucking Davies. Are you happy now?"_

" _Jesus. Your middle name is 'Fucking'?" she asked._

" _Jesus Christ," I muttered under my breath. "I really hope you're being sarcastic right now. It's Elizabeth," I said, growing exasperated. "My middle name is Elizabeth."_

 _Jess grinned. "Of course I was being sarcastic, silly!"_

 _I rolled my eyes. "You know, someday, you're just..." I pursed my lips then, looking her over—I couldn't explain it then, but there was just something about her that screamed untouchable, and that was somehow a turn off and a turn on in my mind. "Forget it," I said, zipping up my laptop case and getting to my feet._

 _Jess immediately got to hers then. "What classes are you taking?"_

" _What classes am I not taking?" I muttered again. "Pre-law," I replied. "Then I have an English class to round that out."_

" _No math or science?"_

 _I shook my head. "No, I was always in accelerated programs, and so I took those classes in the summer, so..."_

" _But don't you do debate team?"_

 _I nodded. "Yep. And government classes."_

" _Do they count as credit?"_

" _The government class, yes. The debate team is an extracurricular."_

" _But what do you do for fun?" she asked._

 _I shrugged. "I don't know. I take self-defense courses. That's fun."_

" _Who do you want to beat up?"_

 _I shook my head—no way in hell I could tell her about Dr. Normal. "No one," I replied. "But I'm a sixteen-year-old college freshman who lives on campus. I'm not going to rely solely on a rape whistle, thank you."_

 _Jess shook her head. "No. No, of course not."_

" _Glad we're on the same page, then."_

 _Jess nodded. "Yeah. Glad..."_

 _Jess would continue to pop in and out of my day-to-day life for the next several months, so much so that I got used to her. I'd always known her, yet we'd seldom talked, so by the time I was in college full-time, I knew the rules were different. She could talk to me there, because Rosalie Farrow and Brittany Chang weren't there to tell her not to. When summer arrived, Jess decided to take some more classes, while Rosalie and Brittany went to Spain with their daddy's money and sent vague postcards and flashy status updates._

" _How's your summer?" Jess asked, giving me a call._

 _I shrugged. "Can't complain. Mom and Norman took the boys to Disney World for the seventieth time this summer..."_

" _Not you?" she asked._

 _I sighed. "Debate tournament. Couldn't miss it."_

" _When's that?"_

" _Next week. Pushed it back."_

" _So, you're just preparing for it?"_

 _I laughed. "Yeah. I shouldn't even be talking to you right now. They make us speed-talk in those things and if I lose my voice, I'm fucked."_

" _So, that's a 'no' to hang out, then?"_

 _I shook my head. "No, of course not. Come on over. We can just watch a movie and not talk for two hours. It'd give my voice a break," I joked._

 _Jess laughed over the phone. "Yeah. Okay. Be over soon."_

 _I left my bedroom then, pulling on a tank top and shorts that I hadn't slept in, walking into my en suite bathroom and pulling a brush through my hair, putting it into a long, copper ponytail that was nothing like anyone's hair I'd ever seen. Shaking my head, I brushed my teeth before heading downstairs, seeing Jess's convertible pulling into the drive. Opening the door and going out onto the porch, I waited for her to come inside, and, when she did, I lead her into the home theater and showed her the expansive collection of Blu-Rays we had._

 _We switched on some romantic comedy that she wanted to see, that I could've given a fuck about—I think it was_ The Notebook _or some shit. I pulled out my phone, mentally going over my debate team notes as Rachel McAdams bawled her head off about Ryan Gosling not responding to her letters for seven years and waiting for her or something... I really wasn't paying attention to the whole plot of the whole thing—or lack thereof, although I was aware that there was a stalking and abusive relationship aspect to it all—and would've worn earplugs if Jess hadn't been so attentive..._

" _Hey!" I said, when she reached out and swiped my phone._

" _We're watching a movie," she pouted._

 _I scoffed. "Uh, yeah, but I have a debate team final next week, and I have to be prepared," I replied, reaching out for my phone._

 _Jess sighed. "I didn't come here to watch a movie..."_

" _Yeah?" I asked, not paying attention, feeling relieved when she finally relented and handed me back my phone. "What'd you come here for, then?"_

 _Jess sighed again, and I finally switched off my phone screen and looked at her. "Finally," she said, as if relieved that I was looking at her. "Look, you can't tell anyone..."_

 _I shrugged. "Okay. Haven't you told anyone?"_

 _She shook her head. "No."_

" _Not even your parents? Or your two younger brothers? Or Rosalie and Brittany?"_

 _Jess scoffed. "Believe me, none of them would understand..."_

 _I shrugged again. "Okay. You can tell me, then. I guess..."_

 _Jess locked her eyes with mine then, looking about as scared as a deer in the headlights. "Well, I'm gay," she said quietly._

 _I looked around the room then. "Well, God Himself didn't come in here and smite you," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Guess you're good."_

 _Jess sighed. "No, you don't get it."_

" _Okay," I replied. "What don't I get?"_

" _I'm coming out because of you."_

 _I shook my head. "Wait. Me? Why me?"_

" _Because I'm fucking into you, okay?!" she demanded then, leaning in and kissing me._

 _I couldn't deny that there was something there—couldn't. But..._

" _Jess, stop!" I cried, pushing her away. "What the hell are you doing?!"_

" _I said I'm into you... What? Don't you like making out?"_

 _I shrugged. "How can you like something if you've never done it?"_

 _She raised her eyebrows. "Wow. I'm sorry."_

 _I shrugged again, feeling so uncertain that day. "It's fine, really."_

" _So, was it... Bad?"_

 _I shook my head. "No, no. It was completely cool, really."_

" _So...?" she asked, inching closer._

 _I laughed. "Okay," I said, leaning in and kissing her again._

 _The kissing soon progressed to Jess and I grabbing each other's chests for long periods of time, but when she attempted to unzip my shorts, that's where my line was drawn. I had no problem doing it to her shorts, and she didn't give a fuck if I licked her until the sun went down or came up, but the notion of her coming anywhere near me scared the shit out of me. I would physically push her away, refusing to get too close._

" _Why?" she demanded one night in my dorm room._

" _Why what?"_

" _Why can't I just taste—"_

" _Ew! No, don't fucking say that!" I said, getting off my bed and walking to the other side of the room. "I hate the analogy that you can eat it..."_

" _Why?" she asked, pulling up her shorts. "You ate mine—you always eat mine..."_

 _I shrugged. "Yeah? So? You seem to enjoy it..."_

" _Yeah, of course I do," she replied. "And when you fuck me? That's amazing."_

 _I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..."_

" _Why can't I just get close to you?" she asked, getting to her feet then and crossing over to me, and I immediately pulled some clothes on. "Why don't you want to be close?"_

 _I shrugged. "Just... Not my thing. Sorry."_

 _Jess scoffed. "Okay, fine," she said. "But you'll let me eat you one of these days..."_

 _I rolled my eyes again. "Highly unlikely."_

 _Jess's prediction won out in the end, and boy, was she right. Being eaten by someone who was so used to having it done to them was incredible, and I'd wished I'd let her do it to me sooner. I was quick to draw the line at her fucking me, however, always turning over and eating her whenever she suggested it. I wanted her to put the idea out of her head, because I was so determined that it was never going to happen._

 _We continued like this for two years, and slowly but surely, we became less careful. Even during my interrogation sessions from Dr. Normal, I would have my fingers crossed behind my back whenever I'd lie to his face. Although the notion of telling your stepfather that you have what society would call a girlfriend and that she liked it when you fucked her was not high up on the list of appropriate topic discussions. I would give noncommittal, one-worded responses to him, not giving a fuck, and just wanting to get back to my homework, or wanting to get back to Jess, no matter what the occasion was._

" _More," Jess begged that day, when she needed to be close to me, and there I was, tongue-deep in her crotch, in my childhood bedroom. "More tongue, Scar, Jesus!"_

 _I lifted my head up to look at her. "We agreed that dominance in these types of situations was_ my _thing, Jess. Now, do you want me to make you come, or do you want to just shout orders at me all day?"_

 _Jess sighed in exasperation. "The first one."_

" _Right answer," I replied, leaning back down and sticking out my tongue._

 _My times with Jess had become second-nature to me, so much so that I would frequently tune everything out around me during our sessions. It made her toes curl, having my mouth on her, and hey, if she liked it so much, I was all for making her happy. The tuning out helped in my dorm room, but not so much now, especially when we'd decided to be so reckless as to do it in my fucking childhood bedroom..._

" _Jesus fucking Christ! Scarlett Elizabeth Davies! What the fuck do you think you're doing in that bed that I fucking paid for?!"_

" _Norman?!" I asked, picking up my head and scrambling out of the bed, shoving the blanket over Jess as I made a grab for a rectangular pillow, which somehow managed to cover all the vital areas. "This isn't what it looks like..."_

" _The hell it isn't!" he yelled then, bending down and correctly guessing which clothes were Jess's, before he picked them up without care and hauled her out of my bed. Then, he proceeded with her down the stairs._

 _I immediately ran after them. "Norman! What the hell are you—?!"_

" _This is_ my _fucking house, and I won't have this shit going on here!" he screamed then, as tears fell from Jess's eyes._

" _Jess," I said, trying to get her to look at me._

" _Don't speak—either of you!" he said then, speaking through his teeth as we made it down the stairs, and opened the front door, whereupon he shoved her outside._

" _Jess!" I screamed, watching as she cried out when she fell. "Norman, please..."_

" _And_ you _," he said, jabbing a finger at me as he slammed the door. "This is beyond anything I've ever seen, and I will not tolerate this behavior."_

" _Norman..."_

" _Don't fucking speak!" he shouted, slamming me against the wall himself, and I gasped aloud then when he took off his belt. "I should show you what real fucking looks like," he said, and I felt my psyche react in a combination of disgust and fear, "but I'm far too repulsed to even touch you with my dick," he said then. Then, I heard him taking off his belt, and I shut my eyes, bracing myself for impact. "You," he said, and I heard it swing, before the buckle made contact with my backside, and I cried out, gripping to the banister of the stairs for support, "stupid," swing, "fucking," swing, "whore!" He swung several times then, cutting me from head to toe, before he snapped his fingers. "Turn around, you whore," he said, and I did, putting my hands behind my back to grip the bannister. "Why," swing, "the," swing, "fuck," swing, "would," swing, "you," swing, "ever," swing, "do," swing, "something," swing, "so," swing, "filthy," swing, "in," swing, "my," swing, "fucking," swing, "house?!"_

 _When he got to the last word, I fell to my knees, too fucking tired to even bother to attempt to fight back in any way. He spat down at me then, his arm tired, before I heard him snap on a pair of gloves and pick me up. Any blood he got on his clothes would be washed out by our maid—I knew that—and I half expected him to take me to the bathroom for a cutting treatment. My assumptions were half-right—until he brought out the shaver._

" _Norman?" I whispered, barely able to talk because of the pain, and the cuts around my lips, which made it doubly painful to talk._

" _You're getting a buzz-cut today, Scarlett," he said firmly. "Hold yourself up, will you?!" he demanded impatiently then. "If you don't sit still, I'll nick you, and it won't be pretty."_

 _I shut my eyes then, sitting as straight as an arrow as he turned on the electric shaver. The humming sound filled my ears then as he placed it directly on my scalp, pressing hard to tear the hair away. I'd vowed that it would never get this bad again—so bad to actually allow Dr. Normal to cut my hair. But this was different, this was worse by far—I'd never been much to look at, but I'd always loved the abnormality my hair had had in social circles, where most of the women were blonde or brunette. I remembered staring at redheads on the street, wondering if one of them could've been my mother, because Tina Davies looked nothing like me, and my suspicions had grown overtime due to her treatment of me..._

" _There," Dr. Normal said, stopping, and, when I opened my eyes, I let out a gasp of horror, and a pained sob. "Don't worry—you're not leaving your room for two weeks, after I sterilize your wounds so they won't get infected," he replied. "And, afterwards, I'll have gotten you a top-of-the-line wig. Can't have you not keeping up appearances, can we?"_

 _The thought of leaving the house looking like this revolted me, and as soon as my wounds were sterilized, I was shoved into my room and locked in. Under Dr. Normal's orders, our maid would bring in sterilization cream, and water several times a day. I was allowed access to my computer and cell phone, for school purposes, and my bathroom, of course, which was outfitted with anything and everything I would need. One thing I could do for myself is shower—Dr. Normal was all about being clean, and he encouraged daily showers in the household._

 _After the two weeks were up, I was allowed back at school, with most of my worse wounds covered by my clothes, and the other ones were explained away by Dr. Normal. People were very nice to me, for the cover story about me having mono had worked like a charm. I was sure to ignore all of Jess's text messages, and her calls, because I didn't want anything to do with her, after what had happened. In all our time together, other than my dorm room, and on occasion in the darkness of her room at her parent's house, we had one other special place that we liked to go to. It was my nook in the library, and we would sometimes meet there for hookups if our schedules were booked up; plus, we were experienced at being quiet, and nobody came back there anyhow._

 _I was at my nook about a month after it had happened; physically my wounds were all healed—the lesser ones, anyway, while my deeper ones, and Dr. Normal's burn mark, had held on—but, on an emotional level, I was still scarred. Just sitting there, trying to remain numb and not give in to the torrent of emotions that threatened to flow through me, every minute of every day, I did my best to focus on my pre-law assignment. It was all about discussing alternative methods of capital punishment, and something told me that life without parole was at the top of the list; we had eight men in Washington State waiting to die, but, due to the fact that this was a blue state with liberal politicians turning up left and right, I considered it unlikely that they would ever be executed themselves..._

" _Scar?"_

 _I swallowed then, raising my eyes to Jess. I wanted to say something—anything to break this agonizing silence between us, but I found that I couldn't. It was even a mistake for looking up at her, I decided then, and turned my gaze back to the computer. My hands flew over the keyboard, and I hoped that she would take the hint that I was busy._

" _Scar, please," Jess said then, and moved to sit next to me. "I think we should talk."_

 _Mutely, I saved my document and gathered up my things, moving to leave. However, her hand was on my arm then, and I yanked it back, away from her, turning to look up at her with all the hatred in my eyes I could muster. Apparently, the silent treatment hadn't worked, so maybe the hateful one could._

" _Scar, don't do this," she whispered—her voice was begging, pleading with me to still be with her, to sneak around if we had her..._

" _Don't do what?" I said, my voice coming out then like the whacks of Dr. Normal's belt. "Don't not talk to you anymore? Because that sure as shit isn't working," I said, getting to my feet and walking out of the library._

" _Scar..." Jess got to her feet then, bolting after me._

 _I didn't have any more classes that day, but I figured that laying low in the library would be a better alternative to my dorm; I'd felt, in that moment, I'd chosen wrong. "Don't follow me, Jess," I said, trying to keep all feeling from my voice._

" _Scar, don't..."_

 _I scoffed. "No, Jess. You don't," I said, my voice cutting then, aware that people were likely staring at us as we walked by, and I was tempted to flip them off, but I made no move to do so as we reached my dorm room building. I headed inside, up to my floor, Jess at my heels, and when I used my key to get in, she shoved me in before her, the door locking automatically behind me, and she stood in front of it. "Jess, you need to get the fuck out of here," I said, my voice hard as I addressed her then, pointing at the door with every word I was speaking, as if she meant nothing to me._

" _Not until you tell it to me straight, Scar..."_

" _God, I don't believe this..." I muttered._

" _That—that muttering thing... Why do you do it?"_

" _This is what you want to discuss? My lack of social skills?!"_

" _No, because you just answered the question," she replied. "No. I want to ask you why you've been avoiding me for a month!"_

" _Jesus, Jess... It's not like you can't get your pussy licked by anyone else! I'm sure everyone you ask will be willing..."_

" _It's not about pussy licking," Jess replied, stepping forward then, and placing her hands on my arms—so gentle, so kind..._

" _Don't fucking touch me," I replied, stepping away from her._

" _You took so long to let me in and, when we did, your stepdad caught us. No wonder you're so freaked out, Scar..."_

 _I shook my head, not looking at her. "I don't want to fucking talk about this."_

" _My parents found out, you know?" she said, and I didn't look back at her. "You know, they believed me when I said we were just fooling around... But they're concerned, so they're making me get engaged," she said, and my eyes snapped back to hers._

" _Engaged?" I whispered, and I hated myself for sounding like I cared._

" _Yeah, to Alec Ross—he's the son of the co-CEO of my dad's company," she replied. "I've known him forever—he's a nice guy... Dad and his father want us to open up a branch of the company in New York, so we'll be moving there next year..."_

 _I plastered a smile on my face. "Go on, then," I said, motioning like I was going to push her out of my dorm room. "Go to New York. Get fucking married. Get fucking pregnant. I don't give a shit, Jess! Go and have a fucking amazing life..."_

" _Why are you lying?"_

 _I scoffed then, looking away from her. "Fuck off."_

" _No, Scar! Tell me why you're acting like you don't care!"_

 _I shook my head. "I don't care."_

" _You never cared about me?" Jess whispered, and, when I looked at her, I felt my heart breaking all over again. "Never? In the two years we were doing what we were doing, you didn't fall in love with me?"_

" _Love..." I scoffed. "It doesn't exist."_

 _Jess shook her head. "Fine. I'll go get fucking married!" she said then, and turned around, and moved towards my door._

" _Jess!" I said, my voice hinging then somewhere between desperation and devastation as I reached out for her then, turning her around and kissing her. I couldn't help it, and, in that moment, I needed her—all of her. "Don't go, Jess..."_

" _What do you want?" she whispered._

 _I sighed, lowering my eyes. "Don't make me say it..."_

 _She raised an eyebrow. "Scar?"_

" _Just... Do it," I said, opening the drawer where I kept the 'fuck machine', as Jess had always called it. "You wanted to do it, so do it."_

 _Jess sighed. "What does this mean, Scar?"_

It means that this is goodbye _, I thought to myself, but I couldn't let her know, not yet. "It means we're figuring it out," I replied._

. . .

"New York's fine," Jessica said on the other end of the phone. "How's Chicago?"

"Good," I said. "Really good. I'm loving it."

"Find your birth family?"

"Yeah, I did," I replied. "I have two older siblings, Fiona and Lip, a twin brother, Ian, and three younger siblings—Debbie, Carl, and Liam. I'm also an aunt—Debbie has a daughter, Franny. I mean, I'm even a mom now," I joked.

"You've got kids?" Jessica asked with a laugh.

I nodded. "Yeah. I've got a daughter, Iana, who's almost two and a half, and I've got twin boys on the way, due in January."

"You married?"

"No," I replied. "I thought I couldn't have kids, so Iana was conceived on a one-night-stand, on a tequila-filled night in Mexico."

"And your twins?"

"My ex-boyfriend," I replied. "I have two bosses, and he's their son..."

"You an attorney?"

"Yeah, I made that dream happen," I replied. "And you? _Vanity Fair_ treating you well over there in New York?"

"Yeah, it's amazing," Jessica replied. "And Alec is just so wonderful with the branch of the company he's built..."

"You guys have kids?"

"Alec Junior is set to turn six in a couple months," she replied. "Then our girls—Katherine and Jane—are four and two."

"I'll bet they're beautiful," I replied.

"Are you happy, Murphy?" she asked.

I nodded. "I am. And you?"

Jessica laughed. "Can't complain."

I wrapped up my call with Jessica shortly thereafter, seeing that it was close to eleven, so I left to take an early lunch. I avoided Nicholas's part of the hallway, not wanting to come into contact with him again as I trekked through the assistant's area and got into an elevator. Once I got into the parking garage, I got in my car and drove across town, making my way to Ian's work and pulling off into the street parking area. Getting out of my car, I walked inside, the receptionist begrudgingly waving me through as I made my way back to the employee area, and stepped inside without any sign of hesitation.

"Ian," I said, spotting him in a crowd of co-workers and, when he turned around, he caught sight of my expression, and looked concerned immediately.

"Murph?"

I sighed. "Can we go outside for a few moments, please?"

Ian nodded. "Excuse me, everybody," he said, and slipped away from the group before placing a hand on my shoulder and leading me outside. "Hey, you okay?"

I rolled my shoulders, looking out at the empty lot next to his work. "Can't complain... Went down memory lane today..."

"Yeah?" he asked. "Dr. Normal again, or...?"

I scoffed. "Dr. Normal is in every part of memory lane, unfortunately... He has a recurring role, but he'll never be the star. Bastard..."

"How'd you go down memory lane?"

"Phone call."

"Yeah? Who was on the other end?"

I lowered my eyes. "Jessica was."

"Yeah?" he asked. "Was it fun to catch up?"

I sighed then, my shoulders slacking as I stared at my feet. Then, I allowed my eyes to wander to the broken concrete around us, to the expansive empty lot next door, until I finally raised them up to my twin's. Ian looked as concerned as he had when I'd walked into the staff area, or when I was going to tell him I was pregnant...

"It was something," I said quietly.

"How was it something?" he wanted to know.

I bit my lip, hesitation flowing through me then before I allowed myself to speak, and the words were so freeing, that I wish I'd said them a long time ago. "I guess I should start off with, there's still so much you don't know about me, Ian Gallagher," I replied.


	5. Behind the Glass

Chapter Five: Behind the Glass...

After taking several minutes to come clean to Ian about more details from my past, I left directly to head to the police station. The day was still sunny, and yet I knew that the chance of rain later that day certainly couldn't be taken lightly, especially at this time of year. Driving down the streets of Chicago, I felt like something was brimming just beneath the surface, just as I'd felt after the accident with Nicholas, and I wondered if it was some kind of warning. Shaking the thought off and out of my mind, I told myself that I couldn't constantly be at odds with my mind anymore. I had to move on and accept things for what they were, in an attempt to live a better life for Iana and the boys I carried inside me.

Even though it was lunch hour, and I knew I had to eat, I oddly wasn't hungry and just wanted this entire day to end. Once I arrived, I sat in my parked car, looking up at the building for a moment and contemplating whether or not just to drive away. I thought by accepting this favor from Nicholas that he would think I was obliged to him in some way, and I couldn't have him thinking that. However, I wanted and needed answers, and maybe this would bring me the closure I truly needed.

Getting out of my car, slamming the door and locking it behind me, were cathartic in a way as I migrated across the parking lot, towards the main entrance. Stepping inside, I made my way into the main lobby area, catching the eye of the receptionist. Straightening my purse up my arm slightly, I stepped forward, anticipation bubbling off me as I got closer to the desk, wondering if my reputation preceded me because of my surname.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Murphy Gallagher to see a Detective Mason Crowe," I replied.

She blinked. "Gallagher?"

I sighed. _Here we go_ , I thought. "That's what I said," I replied, taking out my I.D. and showing it to her. "That a problem?"

"Any relation to Frank Gallagher?"

 _Jesus Christ_ , I thought to myself. "Guess someone could make that claim," I replied, and she gave me a skeptical look as she handed back my I.D. "He's my dad," I said, the title that I gave him then totally undeserving.

"Uh-huh, I see," she said, turning back to her computer for a moment before picking up her phone and keying in a series of buttons. "Hey, Mason. We have a Murphy Gallagher down here waiting for you. Uh-huh. All right—I'll tell her." The woman hung up the phone before looking back up at me. "You're going to want to ride up the elevator to the second floor, and Mason will be in the fourth door on the right."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, pulling my purse back up my arm again as I went down the hallway with the elevator sign, pressing the button. The elevator arrived quickly, and I stepped inside, pressing the level two button and waiting. The doors shut just as quickly, and the elevator pulled me upwards then and soon, it dinged open, and I stepped out into the hallway.

"Murphy?"

I turned around then at the sound of someone addressing me and plastered a smile on my face in an automatic gesture. "Hey, there," I said, immediately stepping forward and taking his offered hand. "You must be Mason?"

Mason smiled. "I must be," he replied, pumping my hand for a moment. "We were just about to bring Josh into interrogation. The room you're going to be in he doesn't have access to—the people that we question come directly into the room, while the people who have been cleared to watch are in a separate room."

"With the see-through glass?" I asked as we stepped into the squad room.

"Kind of," he replied. "Here, I'll show you the room," he said, stepping inside a darkened room with me and showing it off. "You can see him..."

"But he can't see me?" I guessed.

"Exactly," Mason said, and gestured to the chair. "Nicholas mentioned that you were expecting, so we had a chair brought in."

I smiled at him. "That was very thoughtful of you," I replied, moving to sit.

"Is there anything you need while you're here?" he asked. "We don't typically have any gourmet food around here, but I could rustle up something from the vending machine..."

I laughed. "I may have been a transplant—raised in Seattle—but my family is from the South Side, and in my three years of living with them, I'm South Side as well," I told him, and Mason looked uncomfortable then at his assumption of me. "Glass of water—cold, if you have it—would be just fine, thanks."

"You got it," Mason said, moving to leave. "And, just out of curiosity, are you familiar with a Frank Gallagher?"

I rolled my eyes. "Your receptionist already asked me, and yeah, I am," I replied. "He's the deadbeat who found out about me at some point in my childhood and decided not to track me down, despite the fact that I was his second daughter," I said, no longer wanting to be jerked around by the man.

"So, he's your dad?"

"Biologically, unfortunately," I replied. "I never had a father, and my mother was long dead before I ever managed to find my family, so no parents for me, thank you."

Mason lowered his eyes. "I'm really sorry, Murphy..."

"Don't be," I replied, cutting him off. "I was twenty-one when I found out the truth, and even though I was raised by—shall we say insipid individuals, because I wouldn't want to be accused of slander, despite all the shit they put me through—I somehow inherited the intelligence gene and graduated high school at fifteen, and college at twenty-one, so I have a fairly good head on my shoulders. I turned out okay."

"Nicholas said you were independent," Mason said.

I scoffed, watching him leave to go and get my water. "Yeah, you don't know the half of it, detective," I muttered under my breath.

Mason brought me my water within a few minutes and, soon thereafter, they were leading in Josh to the interrogation room. Automatically, I found myself inching forward on the provided chair, gazing at him from behind the glass. His hair was pretty fucked up, and his eyes were red-rimmed—either from crying or from drug use, I didn't know—and his clothes were wrinkled and likely filthy. One of the other detectives shoved him into the chair they'd brought for him, and Josh immediately looked angered by that.

"What the fuck?!" he demanded, shooting out of his chair like a bullet. "You got a problem with me, then say it to my face, Knott!" he said, presumably shouting the surname of the other officer in there with Mason.

"You'll get your ass _back_ ," said the detective, shoving Josh downwards, "into that chair if you know what's good for you!"

"Alec," Mason said, raising his hand slightly, and Alec immediately moved to sit beside him, which quickly told me that Mason had seniority. "Now, Joshua—"

"Josh is fine."

"Okay," Mason said. "Josh, can you please tell me and Detective Knott where you were on the night of June twenty-second of this year?"

Josh looked away. "Working a shift at Mercy Hospital."

"You know," Alec said, proceeding to crack his knuckles, "this whole thing would go a lot easier if you would just cooperate with us and tell us the truth."

Josh turned slightly, so that he faced Alec. "What do you know?"

"We know," Mason said, pulling out a drawer in the table they all sat around and planting pictures on the tabletop, "that street camera footage caught you within of block of the accident where your car hit Nicholas Blomqvist."

"Asshole," Josh muttered.

"You watch it!" Alec shouted.

"It's fine, Alec," Mason said, his voice firm. "Can you confirm or deny that this is your Lincoln, because it's the same make and model as yours, and the plate matches."

Josh spread his hands. "So it's my car. So what? We have a large parking garage at the hospital, and someone could've easily lifted the keys..."

"Your parking garage at Mercy Hospital doesn't have that system," Mason said, easily growing impatient with him. "And besides, we contacted your superiors, and they've informed us that you weren't on call that day."

"I covered for someone," Josh replied.

"Yeah?" Alec asked. "Who?"

"Chrissy Andrews."

"Your girlfriend?" Alec pressed.

Josh gave a stiff nod. "Yeah."

"Chrissy works in a different department than you do, and you're not medically certified to work in that department," Mason said, narrowing his eyes at Josh. "Now, why don't you cooperate with us, Josh, or else we can't help you."

Josh shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

"Did you or did you not drive in the neighborhood that Nicholas Blomqvist lives in on the night of June twenty-second?" Alec asked.

He sighed. "I did."

"And what was your purpose of being there?"

"Stuff I had to take care of," he replied.

"Such as?" Mason asked.

Josh looked up. "Just something I had to do."

"Which was?"

Josh leaned forward then, a look of pure loathing on his face. "I wanted to fucking run over and kill Murphy Gallagher, but that son of a bitch Nicholas Blomqvist had to get in the way and fuck shit up!" he yelled.

"Why did you want to kill her?" Alec asked.

"Because she's a fucking bitch!" Josh said, slamming his palms into the table, which caused the legs to squeal against the floor.

Mason and Alec managed to get to their feet before the table flew across the room, slamming into the opposite wall.

"Why do you think that, Josh?" Mason wanted to know.

"Why? Is she here?!" he demanded, walking over to the glass window and staring at it. "Are you just watching me now, Murphy, like I'm a fucking rat?!" he went on, and I felt myself drawing back automatically. "I know you're back there," he growled then, making a grab for his chair and lifting it. "And I'm going to fucking prove it!"

Immediately, I got to my feet, running towards the door as Josh threw the chair, shattering the glass all around me. Dodging out of the way, I felt a scream pass through my lips as I wretched open the door, darting back into the squad room. Josh let out a stream of expletives then, as Mason and Alec worked hard to restrain and cuff him, as I ran from the squad room. I got out into the hallway, pressing the button like a madwoman and stepping inside.

"Three fucking times," I whispered, covering my face with my hands and shaking my head. "I've escaped death three fucking times since I've moved here..." My voice breaking, I fished my phone out of my pocket, and pressed a number automatically.

"Hey," said the voice. "Everything go okay?"

"Ian, he fucking tried to kill me," I whispered, my voice shaking into the phone as the elevator doors opened. "He...tried to kill me..."

"What?!" he demanded.

"I know," I said, my voice continuing to shake as I stepped past the receptionist and outside, where the blast of cold air alleviated my nerves—but only slightly. "I know I shouldn't be—I mean, the cops have him and all—but I'm so scared..."

"I'm leaving work now..."

"Ian, you don't have to..."

"Hey, you need me," Ian said. "Meet you at home after you get Iana... Or, have Fiona do it, just for today..."

"Ian..."

"Meet me at home. No excuses," he said, cutting the call.

On automatic pilot, I drove straight home, giving Fiona a call and asking her to pick up Iana, and I promised to explain later. Fiona readily agreed, having been filled in by Ian about the meeting I'd had at the police station, so she was likely to be considerate. Driving home, I finally got to our block and parked, slamming and locking the door behind me as I dashed through the gate and up the stairs, unlocking the main door and pushing in the door, slamming and locking that behind me as well.

"Murph?"

At the sound of Ian's voice, I dropped my bag in the hall, dashing over to him and embracing him, allowing myself to sob openly then, as my twin comforted me.

. . .

NICHOLAS'S POV

"You need to tell me what the fuck happened, Mason, and you need to tell me now," I growled into the phone, after getting a cryptic text from Ian.

"What are you talking about?" Mason asked. "I'm a cop, Nick, but I'm not a fucking genius. I mean, you could be talking about a shitload of stuff..."

"What happened with Murphy, dammit," I replied, attempting to keep my voice down as I paced back and forth in my office.

"Didn't you tell me that she ended things with you?"

"That doesn't fucking matter, Mason."

"Why?" he asked. "Because she's pregnant with your kids?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," I said, dragging my free hand through my hair as I considered many ways to convince Mason to see reason. "Mason, listen. I am literally begging you—tell me what went down at the station today."

He sighed. "What tipped you off?"

Immediately, I was standing closer to the edge. "So, something _did_ happen?"

Mason gave a noncommittal groaning sound. "Who tipped you off?" he asked.

"Murphy's twin brother—Ian," I replied, wanting to get to the bottom of this, and quickly. "He has her best interests at heart; plus he loves her as much as I do..."

"In a different way, I hope..."

"Jesus, Mason—shut the fuck up," I hissed into the phone. "One night at The Alibi Room and I'm drunk off my ass—which you were, too—and I stupidly mentioned Murphy's one-night-stand with her brother. It was fucking Lip, not Ian. She's not even Ian's type..."

"What does that mean?"

"Just fucking drop it!" I said, moving as fast as the L down the fast track to hell. "Just tell me what went down at the station today—please."

He sighed. "Well, even though she's knocked up pretty good, Murphy still moves quickly on her feet," Mason put in.

I shook my head. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"Fairfax threw a chair through the glass at her—figured out she was behind it listening. I think it's paranoia, due to exhaustion, but I'm no fucking doctor..."

It felt like a literal knife to my gut, at the notion of Murphy being hurt, but the only thing I knew what to do when someone withheld something from me was fucking scream to let them know they'd done me wrong. "Wait—Josh fucking threw a chair at Murphy, and there was broken glass everywhere, and you didn't fucking tell me he'd been doubly charged?!" I screeched. "Are you out of your fucking mind now, Mason?!"

"Whoa, dude, chill out, seriously," Mason said, his voice firm. "God, this chick dumped you and broke your heart. You'd think you were in love with her or something..."

"Fuck off, Mason," I replied. "And next time something fucked happens to someone I fucking care about, give me a fucking call!" I said, slamming down my phone onto my desk, only to see that I'd broken the screen. "Fuck..." I whispered, unsure if I meant it more for the electronic device or my ex-girlfriend, but I think the answer was pretty clear.

. . .

MURPHY'S POV

I hadn't been speaking directly to Ian since I figured out that he had texted Nicholas about what went down at the police station. I was even tempted to do the childish thing and have Liam or Iana be a messenger, but that seemed a bit too cruel. I knew that Ian was looking out for me—shit, he probably cared about me most in this world, considering I'd broken up with Nicholas and he was no longer obligated to give a fuck.

"What?" he asked, after I'd been quiet for a week.

I shrugged. "Nothing," I replied, my tone defensive.

Ian sighed. "Look, you obviously want to say something, so say it."

I breathed it before pushing the breath out, coming out sounding like some sort of Shetland pony—hey, a girl can dream, can't she? "You didn't have to text Nicholas..."

"Why?"

I shot him a look. "You've gotta fucking kidding me right now..."

"Look, Murphy, he obviously cares about you..."

"What planet are you living on right now?!" I demanded then, thankful that Iana was with Fiona for the afternoon and Liam was surfing the web for god knows what. "I broke up with him. I may be pregnant with his kids, but he is under no obligation to care about me..."

Ian sighed. "He loves you, Murph. Can't you tell?"

I scoffed, looking away from him before getting to my feet. "I am not going to have this conversation again and again, Ian. I'm not."

"Why?" he asked, going after me and turning me around. "Why do you always have to run whenever it's getting a little too personal? In case you've forgotten, I'm your best friend, and your brother—your _twin_ brother—so I think I know a thing or two..."

I pull away from him. "It's not like that," I said, shaking my head at him. "I can't love a man who I can't trust, and who doesn't fucking trust me..."

"Come on, Murph," he said, and I shook my head, refusing to look at him. "If you didn't give a shit about him, you wouldn't have tried to stop me from going after him that night..."

I shrugged, really not wanting to have this conversation with anyone. "Could've been the damn pregnancy hormones," I replied, turning away from him so that he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. "Go to his fucking condo and beat his ass. I give a fuck."

"You know, this lying has really got to stop."

"Fuck this shit," I replied, walking out of the kitchen and going to grab my coat. "I should just go and get Iana..."

"Murphy, stop!" Ian said, going after me. "Come on! You have a problem with omitting the truth and that's not good. Just...talk to me..."

"Why?" I demanded, turning on him. "So we can just talk about all my faults?"

"Murphy..."

"No!" I shouted at him. "We _never_ discuss all your faults, and they should be on the fucking table just as much as mine constantly are!"

"This isn't about me," Ian said, obviously trying to keep his cool.

"It never is!" I yelled back at him. "It never is, Ian! Never! Let's discuss the one fault that we're somehow banned from talking about! Let's discuss Iana's father for a moment, huh? Let's discuss how much you love Mickey and wish he was here right now?!"

Ian glared at me for a moment, before turning away from me and looking at the wall, before he raised his fist and sucker-punched a hole into it.

"Ian!" I screamed.

Ian extracted his bloody knuckles from the wall. "We're not going to talk about him," he said, his voice quiet, and very controlled.

"Jesus Christ!" I shouted, shaking my head and dropping my coat onto the couch, whereupon I hauled him into the kitchen and shoved him against the counter. "Don't you fucking move," I said through my teeth, turning to the freezer and getting out some ice, plus a baggy from the drawer, and a dish towel. "Are you fucking kidding me, Ian?" I demanded then, wrapping up the baggy of ice into the towel and looking up at him.

He stiffened, but nevertheless covered the towel with his other hand, to prevent the baggy from dropping onto the floor. "Yeah, I know..."

"Look," I said, and at the gentleness of my voice, he looked up at me, "I know it's a sensitive subject for you, Ian, I get it, but... Just after I told you about what went down with Jessica after we broke up, I thought that maybe you'd tell me everything, too..."

Ian sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Do you miss him?"

"All the time."

"Do you want him back?"

He shrugged, hunching his shoulders ever so slightly. "I don't know. Maybe. If his charges got dropped and he came back..."

"What about Trevor?"

"That's the problem, isn't it?" he asked.

I sighed. "That's one word for it, yeah..."

Ian looked away from me then, and stared at his hand, lifting up the dish towel for a moment before lowering it back into place. "Anything else?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I said. "You still love him?"

Ian didn't even hesitate as he raised his eyes to mine. "I never stopped," he replied.

I was about to say something else when my cell phone rang, and I got it out of the back pocket of my jeans to answer it. It was an unknown number, so I assumed it was someone on a payphone as I fished it out of my pocket. "One second," I said to Ian, moving around the counter and onto the back porch. "Hello?" I asked, skeptical.

There was a chuckle on the other end. "Miss me?"

My blood ran cold. "Josh?" I asked.

"Good girl," he replied. "You know, you should really change your cell phone number. Anyone who had it in the past could get their hands on it..."

"You know, they record calls in the prison system," I said, knowing that charges had been brought against him, and he'd been brought to Cook County. "So, I advise that you don't say anything, although it is your constitutional right to ignore the advice to remain silent, and that anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

Josh chuckled again. "I'm not in jail, Murphy."

I felt my blood running cold again, feeling fearful. "What?" I asked.

"Got out this morning, after bribing a guard," he said with a laugh. "But you don't need to worry your pretty little head, Murphy. You're the one that I want, but I'm going to do you a little favor first..."

"What kind of favor?"

He laughed aloud again, which unnerved me to my very core. "Remember your beautiful daughter, Murphy?"

"Yes," I replied, on my guard immediately. "Of course I do. Why?"

"Because I have her," Josh replied simply.

"You don't!" I replied. "My sister Fiona..."

"Was unfortunately called away to an emergency at the diner," he replied, sounding sarcastically bummed out. "So, someone needed to pick up little Iana from daycare..."

"No," I whispered, my heart beating in my ears.

"I'll be in Lincoln Park for the next hour," he replied. "Bring someone with you to pick up your daughter, but meet me solo by the Caldwell Lily Pool," he said quietly. "I'll hand her over to you to say goodbye, Murphy..."

"Josh," I whispered, "don't do this..."

"And don't even think about tipping anyone off to it," he replied, as I turned around then, and spotted Ian in the doorway, who gave me a thumbs up. "You tip off anyone, Iana dies, and then you're really next. Got me?"

I bit my lip, nodding at Ian to call reinforcements as I felt my voice trembling at the thought of Josh hurting Iana. "Fine," I blubbered, knowing that, unless Josh had a gun and he'd really beefed up on his self-defense skills, then I was standing to win. "I'll meet you. I'll do whatever you say. Just don't hurt Iana, please..."

Josh laughed again over the phone, and I felt a shudder of revulsion going down my spine at the thought that I'd been in a relationship with him, and slept with him, and done god knows what else with him during our time as a couple, and I really knew that I had to stop him once and for all, before it was too late. "That all depends on you, little Murphy," he replied, before the line went dead.

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. Lurks the Monster

Chapter Six: ...Lurks the Monster

"Please tell me you had no idea that your ex-boyfriend was an evil, psychotic prick," Ian said as I drove as quickly as I could to Patsy's Pies, to round up Fiona and Lip. "Please. Just give me that Murphy, at least..."

"You know, I _really_ don't need a lecture right now," I said, trying and failing to keep my voice from shaking. "Look, on the plus side, Debbie is staying at home with Liam and Franny, so we know they're safe. We can't lose any more Gallagher's today..."

Ian dragged his hand through his hair. "Look, Murph, I just... I don't know how to feel right now, about anything..."

"Don't fucking think, then," I replied, my voice trembling as we got closer to the diner. "And, if you have to think, think about how Josh said he wants us to meet at a public place, and that he can't do much to hurt Iana at a public place, and that you'll get her and keep her safe, just like it said on the agreement we had..."

"Murphy, do you hear yourself?!" Ian demanded. "You're actually going to fucking hand yourself over to Josh?!"

"If it means my daughter can live, yes," I replied, pulling up to the diner and dashing out of the car, running inside and finding Fiona counting bills at the counter. "Where's Lip?!" I demanded, feeling Ian hot on my heels.

"Why? What's going on?" she asked.

"Gallagher family emergency—now," Ian said, and I turned to look at him for a moment before I looked back at Fiona.

"Fi, where is Lip?" I asked her.

"Smoke break—what is going on?" she demanded then, looking from me to Ian. "I think I deserve an explanation here—Murph?" she asked, watching then as I walked through the diner, going towards the kitchen door.

"Son of a bitch Josh took Iana," Ian told Fiona.

"Wait—he fucking what?!" she said as I pushed open the kitchen door.

"Hey, wait," said one of the cooks when he spotted me, "you can't just—"

"I'm the owner's fucking sister—keep your goddamn apron on!" I shouted at him, flipping him off and going towards the door that led to the alley and shoving it open. "Lip?" I said, sticking my head out and looking around.

"Smoke break, Fi," Lip replied, not looking up as he puffed away. "It's my constitutional right or some shit..."

"Jesus—do I sound fucking South Side to you?!" I demanded then, and Lip suddenly looked up at me, his eyes widening. "Wrong fucking sister, Lip..."

"No shit," he replied, looking confused as hell at my arrival. "You all right?" he asked, putting out the cigarette, due to the pregnancy, as he stepped forward. "And yeah, you do sound fucking South Side, Murph. Guess it comes with figuring out who you are, and your living here for a few years now..."

"I don't have time for this," I replied, dragging my hands through my hair. "Ian's inside now with Fiona explaining things, and I came back here to get you."

"Why? What's going on?" he asked.

"Gallagher family emergency," I replied, reaching out and grabbing his arm.

"What the hell happened?" he wanted to know. "Debbie? Carl? Liam? Franny?" he asked, his questions coming out rapid-fire. "If this is about fucking Frank—"

"It's Iana," I said, my voice faltering then as I tried to hold back my tears as we stepped back into the kitchen together.

"Whoa, shit. Is she okay?"

I bit my lip, trying to dissuade the wave of tears from escaping my eyes. "Fucking Josh took her from her daycare," I whispered, my voice shaking. "He called to tell me that he's waiting for me in Lincoln Park, and I have to hand myself over to him, let him do whatever he wants—probably kill me, I don't know—and then he'll give Iana back..."

"Whoa, wait—no fucking way!" Lip said as we got back into the restaurant, his eyes locking with Ian's and Fiona's as we got closer. "Murph's officially insane! We are not just going to let her walk back into the arms of that fucking psycho—"

"Jesus, Lip, let's get outside first," Fiona said, speaking through her teeth as she waved to another waitress that she was taking off. She threw her apron down onto the counter and grabbed her jacket, tossing Lip his, as we trekked back outside. "But Lip's right, Murph—we're not gonna let Josh anywhere near you."

"Thank you," Ian said, looking relieved that our siblings were on my side as he turned back to me. "Murph, we're not letting you do this..."

"This is my child!" I cried out then, my voice reaching its breaking point. "This is my baby—my little girl we're talking about, Ian! Josh fucking took her, and he's fucking psycho, so fuck if I know what he could be doing to her!" I said, my voice shaking as I tried not to think about it. "I never let them be alone together, and now he fucking has her all to himself, so god knows the shit he could be doing because he's fucking crazy as shit..."

Ian stepped forward then and pulled me into his arms. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, reaching into my pocket for my keys, which he tossed to Fiona, who got into my car, Lip riding shotgun—it was a good idea, as I was too worked up to drive carefully. "Come on," he went on, gently dragging me towards the back end of my car, which he opened. He got inside, pulling me after him, and I managed to pull on my seatbelt as he did, my hands shaking a bit, before I launched myself back into his arms.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do?" I whispered. "Josh said no cops—that's a given—and if I didn't give myself to him, then he'd..."

"Let's just get to the park first." Fiona's gentle voice drifted back to me then, and I lifted my tear-stained face to hers.

"It's okay," Lip said then, reaching back and taking my hand in his. "We're going to get her, and take down Josh..."

Ian let out a soft chuckle. "Kind of wish Mickey was here right now..."

"Yeah?" I asked, swiveling my head to face Ian's. "Why? Because he's her father?"

Ian laughed. "Well, that. And he probably would have just the kind of weapon to make Josh cower in fear."

I pulled back from Ian then, fixing him with a look. "Josh coward in fear from my forehead breaking his fucking nose," I replied. "What's a gun gonna do?"

"It'd make him shit his pants," Lip said with a shrug.

"That could be an improvement," Fiona muttered, slamming her palm down onto my steering wheel when the light turned red. "Come on, asshole..."

"No road rage," I said, smirking at her in the mirror.

At once, he eyes locked on mine. "What do you know?"

I grinned. "Only that Rachel has a couple of older siblings and they made the YouTube rounds and may have seen that guy take the baseball bat to that company car..."

Fiona shook her head at me. "As soon as we grab Iana, and you have those twin boys, and are a hundred-percent again, you are gonna get it, sister..."

I rolled my eyes. "Let's just get my daughter back..."

"I second that," Ian put in.

"We're all in agreement, then," Lip said, smiling. "Majority rules. We're grabbing Iana, Murph's gonna give birth to twin boys, and then we get to record Fiona beating her the fuck up once she's back to health."

I managed to work my fist into my other hand, popping my knuckles slowly. "Bring it," I said to her, grinning.

"Always," she replied.

. . .

When we arrived at the park, I'd gotten the text from Josh regarding the meeting place; Fiona, Lip, and Ian were ordered by me to go to the Lincoln Park Zoo, where Josh had sworn he'd just dropped off Iana. I handed over my phone to Ian, already breaking the rules as Josh had told me to dispose of it beforehand, and turned to look at all of them. I knew I shouldn't cry—crying was an admission of defeat, and I refused to not come out on top.

"I'm not going with them," Ian said, speaking before I could. "I'm staying with you."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Ian, we talked about this..."

"Yeah, and now I'm talking to you," he replied, crossing his arms. "Murph, we came into this world together, and if this is how it's going to end, then I'm okay with that. I'm going with you, Murph, because you're my fucking sister."

I sighed, shaking my head. "What about Trevor? And Liam? And Fiona, Lip, Debbie, Franny, even fucking Frank...?" My voice broke then as our eyes locked. "Mickey?" I asked, and found I was crossing my arms as well.

Ian looked away. "You don't need to say it."

I put my hands on my hips. "Yeah, I do, because I'm going to fucking die in a few minutes if shit doesn't work itself out somehow," I said.

"What do you mean?" Lip asked.

"Fuck," I whispered, pulling up my sweater, and revealed to them that a bit of the bulk was not all pregnancy weight.

"Jesus," Fiona whispered.

"Where the fuck did you get a gun?!" Ian demanded.

Quickly, I lowered my sweater. "Bought it after Iana and I got back from Florida—it was after Nicholas told me that Josh was the one behind the accident."

Lip looked confused. "But, the waiting period..."

"I bought it off some jackass in an alley for three hundred bucks," I replied.

Fiona immediately looked concerned. "Murph, it could have a body on it..."

"Well, it will after today," I replied, "because I'm tired of living in fear."

"What's your play?" Ian asked.

I scoffed. "Act like a fucking scared bitch until Josh gets off on it, and then wait for an opportune time to blow his head off. Then, I can legally say that he tried to attack me, so..."

"I'm going with you," Ian said again.

I rolled my eyes. "No, you're not!"

"Yes, I am!"

"Quiet!" Fiona said, moving to stand between us, her arms raised. "Lip and I will go and get Iana from the zoo—poor thing must be scared shitless by herself," she said. "Let's just... Say our goodbyes in case of..."

"Don't say it," Lip said, standing there, hands in his pockets, staring at the ground. "Don't say it, Fi, please. Last thing any of us want is an incomplete family after today..."

I looked up at Fiona. "Look, I'm sorry if I've been a pain in the ass as a little sister..."

"You're a fantastic sister, Murph," Fiona said, grabbing me up into her arms. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." She pulled back then, cupping my face in her hands, as both of our eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to see you in a few minutes, okay..."

I nodded. "Yeah...yeah," I said, forcing a smile onto my face as she let me go. I turned to Lip then and smiled. "Hey," I said, punching him in the arm. "Look, I know it's been crazy since all this started, but... Know that I love you, Lip."

Lip looked up at me then, and quickly dashed the tears from his eyes before he yanked me at full force into his arms. "I fucking love you, too, Murph," he replied. "You're the best sister any guy could ask for... Sorry I got a little lost in the beginning..."

"We were both lost," I whispered back.

"It's no excuse," he replied. "Once we knew the truth, I should've come together with the family and instead I just lost myself for a while..."

I pulled back then, standing on my toes and kissing his forehead. "Protect my daughter," I said quietly to him. "Promise."

"I promise," Lip replied.

I nodded, pulling away from him and moving towards Ian, who automatically raised his arm and secured me under it. "We're going to take care of Josh now..."

"We've got this," Fiona replied.

I nodded again, trying to reassure myself. "I love you guys..."

Lip forced a smile then. "Yeah. Love you too, Murph."

"Okay..." I said, turning to Ian, and we walked down the path, my heart hammering in my chest, unknowing as to what we were walking into. "As soon as we reach the clearing," I whispered to Ian, "I want you to hang back."

"I said we were facing this together, Murph. I meant it."

I sighed. "I know," I replied, "and I went along with it, because Fiona and Lip were on board. If something goes wrong, I need you to hide so that you can call the cops, get someone down here quickly, in case..."

"No," Ian said, his footsteps ceasing then as he grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me to stand opposite him. "No fucking way. I came in with you, I go out with you. That's our play, Murph, no matter what."

I shook my head, ignoring the tears that fell from my eyes. "I can't let you do this, Ian. Iana needs you. Mickey needs you..."

"Christ, Murph! _You_ need me!" he replied, yanking me towards him and just holding me. "In this moment, you need me, and I'm not running."

"I can't have both of you hurt," I whispered. "I can't leave this world knowing that I was the cause of all this..."

"You're not going to die, Murph..."

I sighed, my shoulders slacking as I pulled back from him. "The minute Josh sees me, he'll know I'm pregnant with Nicholas's babies. He'll want me dead for that, Ian. I know it."

"Murph..."

"Please," I said, shutting my eyes for a moment—I couldn't take that expression on his face, literally begging to be executed beside me. "Don't do this, Ian. I need you here to raise Iana. I need you here to protect my daughter."

"Murph, there's nothing you could do or say to change my mind."

I shook my head then, opening my eyes as I stepped away from him. "Do this last thing for me, Ian—I am literally begging you. I'd get on my knees if I could. Just let me go out with a final bang. I haven't come here to die, but somehow, I think it's going to happen. Just stay hidden—I'm only asking for that. Stay hidden, and if Josh does anything, call the cops and tell them where we are."

"Murph..."

I dashed towards him then, throwing my arms around him—I had to give him a proper goodbye, no matter what the eventual outcome. "I love you," I whispered, holding him close to me then, and I felt whole—on an emotional level, at least, one that could only be compared to Iana and to Nicholas, despite everything—before I let him go.

"I love you, too, Murph..."

"Good," I replied, dashing the tears from my eyes. "Then do me this one final favor and just wait here—watching and waiting. Wait for the thing that'll get Josh taken in. Just please..."

Ian nodded then, his phone vibrating as I moved to get closer to my meeting place with Josh. "I think you should know that Fiona's calling..."

"Keep the call quiet," I whispered back, turning my head around and smiling at him. "It's all going to be okay," I assured him.

"Fi?" Ian asked, taking the call. "What? Slow down..."

I drowned out his words then, stepping into the clearing just before the pond, seeing Josh standing by a tree. I sighed inwardly—the time had come for the final walk. Stepping forward then, carefully, I felt a burst of fear within me as Josh turned to look at me, and revulsion followed at that smile on his lips. "Hello, Josh," I said.

"Murphy," he replied, looking me over, before a look of disgust clouded his face as he gazed at my expanding belly. "What the fuck is that?!"

I let out a chuckle then—I must've run so quickly out of the outside room after his interrogation that he hadn't seen my pregnancy. I guess the police didn't snitch about it either. "It appears that I'm pregnant," I replied.

Josh looked angered. "With Nicholas's child?" he guessed.

I nodded. "Yes. Like you, I've moved on. Or tried to, at least..."

Josh appeared enraged then. "Chrissy is nothing," he replied, growling the words that poured from his lips. "She always meant nothing."

"Oh?" I asked. "Then why were you hiding out at her mother's house?"

"Convenience purposes only, I assure you," he replied. "I was hiding out there before I could escape to the border."

"Uh-huh," I replied, not fully convinced as I crossed my arms. "But let's return to the matter at hand, Josh—regarding the kidnapping of my daughter," I said, and Josh looked mighty pleased with himself as I brought it up. "Just promise me that she's at the meeting place..."

"Did you send members of your family to collect her?"

I gave a stiff nod. "As we agreed."

Josh chuckled, stepping forward then, and I automatically moved backwards—I didn't want him anywhere near me. "Murphy," he said, his tone condescending, "I always believed that you were the intelligent type..."

I scoffed then. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?! Of course I'm intelligent—I'm a fucking lawyer, for Christ's sake!"

Josh clicked his tongue for a moment—I think it was impatience. "Oh, Murphy, Murphy, Murphy... Just what are we going to do with you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, seriously, I don't know what the fuck you're on, but you're not going to do anything to me..."

"Really?" Josh asked, a smirk on his face as he suddenly lunged forward, grabbing me by the wrist and hauling me against him, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, what do we have here?!" he asked me then—rhetorically, of course—and yanked up my sweater, finding the gun immediately. "A pregnant woman shouldn't have this—I'll take it for you," he said, making a grab for it before pistol-whipping me to the ground.

"Jesus, god!" I yelled, quickly maneuvering myself so I didn't land on my stomach. "What the fuck is the matter with you, Josh?!"

"You're the only woman who ever denied me," he replied, holding the gun aloft—a perfect aim to shoot a target. "I won't have that, Murphy—I won't!"

"So why take my daughter?!" I demanded through gritted teeth. "She did nothing to you!"

"You loved her over me, and, in so doing, would choose her over me..."

I sighed, feeling the warmth of the blood on my scalp slowly proceeding to ooze down my skull, but the warmth did nothing to comfort me. "What's with all this bullshit, Josh?! Of course I fucking would!" I replied, feeling nervous as my vision going fuzzy, but I refused to back down, going so far as to get on my knees. "I mean, please—she's my fucking daughter, Josh. Why would you even think for a second that I would ever choose a man over her? My daughter means everything to me..."

"Which is why I could've killed her," Josh replied, and my heart lurched for a moment at the thought of Iana—lifeless, no longer laughing, lying before me, "but it was much easier to lure you here under the illusion that I'd taken her."

I felt my eyes widen then at what Josh had done. "What?" I whispered.

Josh laughed down at me then, likely thinking I was the most pathetic being alive. "I find that it's so easy to get what I want, once I dangle an incentive before the proposed target..."

"You...fucking...bastard! Why the fuck would you do something like that to me?!" I screamed then, launching to my feet then and running towards him, no longer caring. "I am going to fucking kill you—!"

Three things happened then—two of the same, in reaction to what happened first—and none of us were prepared for it. The gun went off—firing, the blast echoing off the surrounding trees and causing many birds to leave their roots—and two separate people yelled out, "No!" from directly behind me. Once the blast fired, it took a moment to hit me and, once it did, I let out a scream of shock and pain as I fell, hard, to my knees. Immediately, I gripped myself just below my ribcage as blood seeped through my fingers, the warm, red liquid looking very surreal to me as I raised my eyes to Josh's, bewilderment filling my entire being.

In the next moment, I heard sirens going off from all sides, and was shocked when Ian ran towards Josh like there was no tomorrow—who dropped the gun—and immediately tackled him to the ground. He was shouting profanities at him, one after the other, and was punching him all over his face. I thought about laughing, in the milliseconds that followed, due to the notion that a second Gallagher was fracturing his near-perfect, frat boy face...

"Shit," I whispered, lowering my eyes again, unable to move, as blood continued to seep through my fingers. "Fuck..."

"Murphy!"

I looked up then, and gasped aloud when Nicholas came into view. "What are you...?" I whispered, shaking my head. "You don't have to be..."

"Of course I'm here," Nicholas replied, seeing what had happened. "Fuck..."

I shook my head. "It's nothing..."

"Not nothing," he replied, taking off his jacket and pressing it into me, and looking shocked when I screamed quietly in pain. "Jesus, I'm sorry," he whispered, as several police cars and an ambulance surrounded us.

"He lied to me, Nicholas," I whispered, and I felt his eyes on me then. "He said... He said that he took Iana..."

"Ian filled me in," Nicholas replied.

I sighed. "I was so scared..."

"Ian gave me a call—I went to her preschool myself," he replied. "You conveniently left me on the pick-up list, so when I got the call that she needed someone to get her..."

"You took her home?" I whispered, my voice shaking.

He nodded. "Yeah, of course I did. I was able to take her to your place and leave her with Debbie. I rushed right over here afterwards..."

I shook my head. "Thank you," I whispered.

Nicholas smiled. "You're welcome."

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step back now," said an EMT, rushing forward with a stretcher for me, already set up.

"Can I help?" Nicholas asked, and I watched as a couple of officers dragged Ian off of Josh and, due to the circumstances, seemed to be understanding.

"We'll take it from here," the EMT replied.

"Can I go with her?" he wanted to know.

"What is your relationship to her?"

Nicholas sighed. "Her name is Murphy Gallagher. And I'm..."

"He's my boyfriend," I replied, and Nicholas immediately looked down at me. "We seriously need to discuss things, I know, but..."

"Immediate family only," the EMT replied, cutting across me as we moved toward the ambulance at a hasty clip. "Once you get to the hospital and are in the state to do so, you're allowed to sign a release saying who you do and do not want there with you."

"Ian?" I said, my voice elevating as they lifted me up, and Ian immediately moved to my side. "I want him with me..." I begged.

"What is your relationship to her?" the EMT asked, just before he loaded me into the ambulance, clearly growing impatient.

"Twin brother," Ian replied.

The EMT looked slightly surprised before shrugging his shoulders. "All right," he replied, and Ian got into the ambulance behind me, where the doors were slammed.

I peered through the windows then, as they fitted me with a respirator, seeing Fiona and Lip running onto the scene, and I saw Nicholas explaining what had happened to me. Seeing the three pairs of eyes staring back at me, I forced a smile to my lips. I felt my eyes growing heavy then as I turned to Ian.

"Hey," he said, taking my hand in his, as the other was fitted with an I.V. "I'm here, Murph. It's okay—just sleep."

"Sleep..." I whispered, feeling the word elongating itself as I felt the fuzziness overtaking me then, my grip on Ian's hand slacking as I fell into sleep itself, greeting it like an old friend, as the feeling of a warm blanket surrounded me.

. . .

When I finally felt the sensation of the warm blanket leave me completely, I opened my eyes, the scent of the sterile environment tipping me off as to my location. Looking around, I spotted Ian immediately—passed out in a chair beside the bed—and smirked at how he looked, wishing that I had my phone so that I could take a selfie. Shaking my head, I immediately became aware of the tubes in my nose, as well as the I.V. in my arm, and the sensation of sporadic pain flowing through the area below my ribs.

Images filtered through my mind then—Josh had shot me, I remembered that much. And there had been blood—so much blood; I hadn't seen so much blood since my miscarriage. Oh, shit, I was pregnant! Was I still?! I thought, managing to lift the hospital blanket from where it was tucked around me—which annoyed me to no end, as the concept of tucking in seemed to be keeping young children prisoner in their beds. _Did parents not care about overheating_?! I thought to myself, staring at my expanded stomach. Well, I could still be pregnant, although I was well-aware of the fact that a woman's belly remained swollen for days—if not weeks—after they delivered their children...

I dropped the blanket, feeling slightly uneasy as I turned to Ian. "Ian?" I whispered, placing my hand upon his arm. "Hey, Ian?"

He moaned slightly in his sleep, dragging his hand across his eyes before he opened them, and looked amazed that I was awake. "Holy shit, Murph!" he cried, launching himself at me without thinking and hugging me.

"Careful—ow!" I said, half-sarcastically. "Please! I'm fragile."

Ian sighed, kissing my forehead. "I'll go get the doctor..."

"Wait, Ian," I said, grabbing his arm before he could walk away from me. "Just tell me... How long was I... You know. Out of it."

Ian dug around in his pocket for his phone, which lit up immediately. "It looks to be eight a.m. on October twenty-third," he replied.

"Shit," I whispered, remembering that we'd arrived at the park around four the last afternoon and shook my head. "Okay... Get the doctor."

Ian nodded, stepping out of the room for a moment before returning. "Nicholas has been asking for updates. Should I tell him that you're awake?"

I smiled. "Well, yeah. Did he tell you we kind of got back together as I was bleeding out?" I asked him, a laugh escaping me, before I immediately gripped my stomach.

"Careful," said a doctor as they stepped into the room.

My eyes widened then. "Grace?" I asked.

"Murphy, hello!" she said, smiling at me. "Well, I wish we weren't seeing each other under these circumstances. Shall we wait for Nicholas?"

I nodded. "Yes, please."

"I had a feeling you might say that, so I sent a nurse to fetch him," she replied.

I smiled up at her. "Thank you," I replied. We made small talk for a few moment before Nicholas stepped into the room, and I immediately found myself straightening up. "Hey," I said, utterly surprised when he crossed the room and kissed me. "Jesus," I whispered, pulling back and grinning up at him. "That must've been disgusting for you..."

"Kissing you will never be disgusting, Murph," Nicholas replied, sitting on the corner of my bed and smiling. "Hello, Grace."

"Hello, Nicholas—nice of you to join us," she said, waiting for Ian to take his seat before assessing the clipboard in front of her. "Well, Murphy there's no easy way to say this..."

"Are my babies okay?!" I demanded, interrupting her, literally on the edge of the seat as I felt Nicholas's arm going automatically around my shoulders. "My... Our babies—our sons. Please tell me they're not..."

Grace smiled. "The bullet missed them completely—they're absolutely fine," she assured me. "I would recommend you sit down for this next piece of news but, thankfully, you already are. So, Murphy, you sustained a gunshot to the kidney."

I nodded. "Okay..."

"We had to do an x-ray, and, unfortunately, there was nothing to be done for it," she replied. "I recommended emergency surgery, and we successfully removed it."

I raised my eyebrows. "I've got one kidney?" I whispered, sensing Ian and Nicholas stiffening on either side of me.

"You're still perfectly healthy, Murphy, and your babies are marvelous," Grace assured me. "I wouldn't worry about it."

I nodded. "Great. Yeah," I said, forcing a smile. "Not worrying."

"Well, I'll have a nurse give you more pain medication, and then I'll leave you alone for a couple of hours," she said, slipping out of the room.

I sighed, turning to Ian. "Fiona and Lip?"

"Downstairs in the cafeteria."

"And Debbie and Iana? Where...?"

"Still at home, with Franny... Plus, Frank showed up."

"Not here?!" I demanded.

Ian shook his head. "No. At home. Claims he's worried or something..."

"Jesus," I muttered, shaking my head. "Listen, why don't you give Fiona and Lip an update for me, okay? I need a moment with Nicholas..."

Ian nodded. "Sure," he replied, squeezing my hand before leaving the room.

I turned and looked at Nicholas then and sighed. "Look, I know it was crazy for me to just say you were my boyfriend, but I panicked..."

He nodded. "Did you mean it?"

I smiled. "That's sort of up to you, too, you know..."

He retuned my smile. "Of course I want you back, Murphy. I never wanted us to end in the first place, although I accept full responsibility for us ending..."

"Nicholas..."

"No, you were right," he said, taking my hand in his. "You were right. Even though we said no more secrets, I was still keeping things from you. I shouldn't have done that, Murphy, I know that, but it's just that I have this desire to protect you. It's not that I'm not giving you the information to be vindictive, but because I want you to be safe, because I love you. And I don't want anything bad to happen to you..."

Shaking my head at his words, I lean in and kiss him, cutting him off. "I love you, too," I replied, and was filled with warmth when he smiled down at me, relieved. "And... I can't live without you, Nicholas. Not anymore."

He leaned his forehead against mine. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means we face this head-on and figure it out," I replied, "because we're adults. Adults who figure shit out for a living. Teenagers are the ones who are allowed to cut and run, Nicholas, but we can't be those people anymore who freak out when shit gets tough and just bail. I can't bail on any of this—I'm a soon-to-be mother of three, and I want this life, and even if you don't want this, I'm in it. For good."

Nicholas smiles then, leaning down to kiss me. "I'm in this, Murph," he replies, placing his hand on my stomach, "and not just for the babies, or for Iana, but for you. I love you, and I'm not ever going to try to get out of this. I need you in my life."

I smiled, feeling the tears pricking the backs of my eyes. "And so, at last, we're on the same page. Finally."

Nicholas grinned. "Finally," he replied, and I reached up then, gently pulling him downwards so that he can kiss me again.


	7. The Keys To The Kingdom

Chapter Seven: The Keys To The Kingdom

The healing process, for all intents and purposes, would take as long as it would take. On the physical level, I was sore—the deep scar in my stomach from the kidney removal needed constant care, and I was given amazing medication to keep my in check. The notion that my sons would be all right sent a wave of calm through me, and, now that Nicholas and I were on the same page again, I felt better on the whole.

Once a week had passed, I was given the all-clear to return home, and I was relieved that Iana was just as excited as I was. Nicholas and Ian helped me from my bed, putting me into a wheelchair to wheel me to my car, whereupon we would drive home. Fiona, Lip, Debbie, Carl, Franny, Iana, and Trevor would be waiting at home for me, and I was pleased at the expectant family reunion I was walking into. Once we'd cleared the hospital doors, Ian walked into the parking lot to pull the car around, and Nicholas waited with me.

I looked around then, growing annoyed at the wheelchair. "Screw it," I said, and got to my feet, much to Nicholas's concern. "I'm a fucking lawyer, Nicholas, who just lost a kidney and is fucking pregnant—they won't sue."

Nicholas dragged a hand through his hair. "They can still sue you, Murph. I think they'd be less prone to do so if you were on the hospital board. Although I'm sure Dr. Fairfax will talk them out of it," he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. "Josh has two attempted murder convictions against him—from the same person. It's not my fault his mother's a total whack job..."

"Must've inherited it from her."

"No shit," I replied, looking through the parking lot, not yet seeing Ian pulling the car around. "I would kill for a cigarette right now..."

Nicholas chuckled. "If I gave you a cigarette, you would be killing, so..."

I turned and looking at him, flipping him off before I leaned back into him. "Oh, once these boys are out of me, it'll get better..."

"They wearing you out?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied, grinning up at him. "Whoever said carrying twins was easy was a fucking sadist liar..."

"Well, Monica carried twins..."

"Well, she's a confirmed liar," I muttered, running my fingers over my expanding stomach and remembering to breathe.

"Come on—it's not that bad."

"It's fucking shitty," I replied, turning to look up at Nicholas again. "You've heard snippets of the hell she put my siblings through, which I would've had to go through if I hadn't been fucking given away as a baby..." I felt my lip trembling then, keeping my hands secure on my stomach. "I was just a baby—just a little baby and she just...gave me away. Gave me away like I was nothing but a piece of trash..."

"Murph..."

I sighed, dashing the tears from my eyes as I saw Ian driving up, straightening up then as he got out of the car. "Hey," I said.

"The fuck did you say to her?!" Ian demanded, stepping forward, looking as if he would put Nicholas in a headlock.

"Ian!" I said, stepping immediately between them. "What the fuck is the matter with you?! Stop it! It's not his fault! It's these fucking pregnancy hormones!"

Ian looked down at me for a moment before he raised his eyes to Nicholas's again. "I don't give a shit how much you love her, or how much she loves you," he said, speaking through his teeth, and I knew he was not messing around. "You've messed her up so many times, Blomqvist, that I'm sick and tired of it. Do it again, and you're fucking dead," he said, looking back down at me and sighing. "Say your goodbyes and we're going home," he told me quietly, before glaring at Nicholas and getting back into my car.

"He off his meds again?" Nicholas asked.

I shook my head at him. "Don't ask," I replied, standing on my toes and kissing him. "Trust me, after that little display, you're on his shit list, and believe me, he doesn't take it lightly."

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

I smiled up at him. "Gallagher thing," I replied, patting him on the cheek and turning around and getting into my car, before waving to Nicholas as we pulled out of the parking lot. "Look, you can't just fly off the handle every time you see me flipping the fuck out, Ian," I said quietly as we headed towards the highway.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do, Murph? Be fucking respectful to that piece of shit after all the times he's fucked with you?"

"Ian," I said, my tone firm, and he sighed, gripping the steering wheel more tightly. "I know you want to stick up for me—fuck, I mean, I love that we live in a family like that, believe me—but you can't fucking disrespect Nicholas when he didn't technically do anything."

"You really expect me to believe that it's the hormones, Murph? I mean, after everything that that...tool has done..."

I smiled as we came to the stoplight, and I leaned across the barrier of the seats and kissed him on the cheek. "You're my fucking brother, and I fucking love you, but Nicholas is my boyfriend, and the father of these boys," I said, my hand drifting to my stomach. "He's in this, Ian, and we're moving in together at some point in the future, so he's going to be around, whether you like it or not."

He sighed, turning to look at me. "And if I don't?"

"I love you," I said again, "but you need to meet us halfway here, Ian. Nicholas respects the shit out of you."

"Just because I'm your twin? Or is he afraid that he'll be branded a gay hater if he suddenly turns against me?"

"Okay, one, it's not just because you're my twin. Two, Nicholas didn't give a shit about me and Jessica being a couple—or whatever it was we were—and I know that he likes you a lot, and thinks Trevor's a cool guy," I said, and Ian shook his head. "He literally doesn't give a shit about sexual orientation, Ian. I'm being fucking serious right now."

Ian sighed, coming to a stop at another traffic light and turning back to look at me. "I just don't want anyone coming after my family, Murph."

I nodded. "I know," I replied, "and I think that's another shared trait we have. But once the boys are born, Nicholas and I will be bonded forever. I know you love them already, Ian, and I really need you to try and like Nicholas. I'm not asking for you to be best friends or anything, but I do need you to be polite. Please. Just...try."

Ian rolled his eyes, stepping on the gas as the light changed. "I'll try," he said, getting onto the main stretch of road towards home. "Fi texted while I was getting the car that Frank's still there, but she's keeping an eye on Iana—with Lip, Debbie, Carl, and Liam—so I don't think there's anything to worry about."

I sighed. "Do you think he's changed at all?"

Ian shook his head. "Fuck if I know—I'm no judge. If he's trying to be nice, it's only so he can get close to Iana. She's the only Gallagher who isn't fully turned against him yet."

I grinned. "Have you all indoctrinated Franny, then?"

Ian smirked. "Maybe," he replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Bad parenting is so overrated," I muttered.

We drove past The Alibi and turned the corner, making it home in just a few minutes. I hopped out of the car, opening up the back and grabbing my duffel, but Ian hauled it out of my hands and took it upon himself to carry it. I shook my head at him, punching him in the arm and flipping him off as we walked through the gate and up the stairs, whereupon I threw open the door and stepped inside.

"Look who the hospital finally released!" I said, throwing up my hands and grinning from ear to ear at my family. "Hey, baby girl," I said to Iana.

"Mama!" she cried, scooting off the couch and running up to me, and I bent over, managing to pick her up and hold her.

"Thank god you're here," Fiona said, stepping forward and pulling me in. "You okay? Ian didn't give us much by way of reports..."

I sighed, shrugging. "Debs lost three toes," I said as she pulled back, "and now I'm down to one kidney. Ian lost his mind, you lost your way, Lip lost his sobriety there for a while, and Carl lost his ability to be single for a bit. Gallagher's," I said, smiling up at her.

"Gallagher's," she replied, removing Iana from my arms in sympathy, trying to figure out which kidney of mine had been extracted.

"Hey," Lip said, stepping forward and hugging me. "You doing okay?"

I nodded, allowing him to remain holding me for a moment. "Yeah, yeah," I said, finally allowing myself to pull back. "Feeling good—powerful. Working through all this shit that I've got to deal with," I said with a laugh.

"Give her room, Lip, Jesus," Debbie said, pushing past him to hug me carefully. "Any cute doctors over there?"

I laughed. "Not sure. Now that the hospital's gotten rid of Josh and Chrissy, looks like we'll be seeing some turnover, so that's something..."

"Don't forget me," Carl said, plowing past Debbie and pulling me up for a bear hug. "Sorry I haven't been around much. Looks like I'm going to get my shipping out assignment soon, and I've been trying really hard to raise the ranks and work the program so my first assignment isn't a total shit show..."

I laughed then as he lowered me to the ground, wincing slightly at the pain that the laugher brought to my stitches, and feeling fussed over when Ian stepped forward immediately and Fiona looked concerned. "No, I'm fine," I said, holding my hands up as Liam came forward. "Hey," I said, pulling him to me and kissing his forehead. "You doing okay?"

Liam shrugged. "Eh. I'm living."

I rolled my eyes at him and squeezed his shoulder. "Keep working that deadpan, little man—it looks good on you. Really."

The back door opened then, and all of our heads turned then as Frank walked in, spreading his hands in a form of greeting. "Hello, my children," he said, stepping through the kitchen and into the living room, and I immediately stepped towards Fiona and made a grab for Iana.

"Debbie," I said, forcing my tone to remain level. "Where's Franny?"

"Napping in your room," she said. "I hope that was okay..."

"That's fine," I replied, keeping a firm grip on my daughter. "Take Iana upstairs to join her, please, if you would."

Debbie nodded. "You got it," she replied, taking Iana from me after I'd kissed her on the cheek and brought her upstairs.

"Ah, well if it isn't my second-born daughter, home from the hospital," Frank went on, shoving his way past Ian, Fiona, Lip, and Carl, who had attempted to block his access to me. "You look so much like your mother, Murphy. Truly a vision."

I scoffed, pulling away from him. "You reek of a boiler maker, Frank, Jesus," I said, glaring up at him. "And that statement couldn't be farther from the truth. Monica was blonde—I'm a redhead like Ian, and Monica had a fucking drug problem and I've only ever touched pot. Trust me—Carl's batshit crazy wife Kassidi who refuses to divorce him is way more like Monica. No offense, Carl—I've only met her a couple of times, but she's threatened to kidnap Iana and slashed my tires twice..."

Carl threw up his hands. "None taken."

Frank waved his hands around then, almost as if he was attempting to wave those thoughts away from his mind. "Semantics, Murphy. Mere semantics."

I felt my eyes widening then as I stared at the floor for a moment before looking up at this man who was inexplicably my father. "Jesus Christ," I muttered, feeling slightly more secure with Fiona, Lip, Ian, Carl, and Liam—who by this time had migrated to the couch and was just watching the display in front of him—to back me up. Well, best four out of five... "What the fuck do you want, Frank?"

"Shit, Murphy. Would it kill you to call me 'Dad'? Just once?"

I dragged my hand over my mouth as my siblings mutually swore around me. "You've got to be fucking kidding me right now, Frank. You weren't there for my siblings—you fucking abandoned their asses as soon as you figured out that Fiona was doing all the work. Not to mention that you pocketed social security that didn't belong to you multiple times over the years without spreading the wealth around."

"Jesus, have you ingrates told her everything?!" Frank demanded then, his eyes roving from one Gallagher child to the next. "Is nothing sacred?!"

I shook my head at him, crossing my arms. "I am just as much a Gallagher as the rest of them, Frank, and we're not a family that keeps secrets from each other," I replied. "But my favorite part would have to be that you fucking knew about me—after Monica likely blabbed it during a sleepy-time high that you inexplicably remember—and you did absolute shit to attempt to get me back into your life."

"Any of them could've known—" Frank began.

"Yeah, but that's the thing, Frank," I said, glaring at him, as hot, angry tears threatened to escape my eyes and roll down my cheeks, "they didn't know. Nobody fucking knew about it, because you never said shit about it."

"I didn't know," Fiona said, her voice strong then as I turned to look at her, her eyes glued directly onto Frank. "I didn't fucking know that we had another sister out there. We didn't even fucking know about Sammi, but god knows how that turned out, and it wouldn't have mattered at all. Murphy's all of us wrapped in a neat little package, you jackass. I remember the day Lip introduced us, and I felt something that I only ever felt for him, Ian, Debs, Carl, and Liam. It was blood, Frank—blood. A familial bond sealed in blood, and that's not something that ever goes away, because even though we'd never met, and she was ripped from Ian's side after only a handful of minutes or hours or whatever, we should've fucking known. You've pulled a lot of shit over the years, Frank, but I can't forgive you. Not for this."

"I didn't know either," Lip said quietly, obviously struggling to contain himself. "And this makes me so fucking mad, Frank, that I literally could drink right now. I'm that pissed off at you for keeping this from us."

"I didn't know about Murphy, and I'll bet money—like, real G-Dog money—that Debbie didn't know about her either," Carl put in.

"I didn't know, but I was too young," Liam said quietly.

Ian stepped forward then, until he was directly opposite Frank, with hardly an inch of space between the two of them. "For years, I lived in this constant darkness of being different. First it was about being gay, and then it was that freak who crashed the helicopter and was on the run from the army. And then it was the bipolar, Frank—fucking Monica," he said through his teeth then, his voice nearly breaking, and I was tempted to reach out to him, but didn't. "But when I first met Murphy, neither of us could explain the constant similarities between the two of us, and not just the physical ones. Sure, she was Lip's girl for a while there, and I wanted the two of us to get along," he said, and Lip and I flashed nervous looks to one another before turning our attention to Ian again, "but soon we were best friends, joined at the hip, and she was spending more time with me than she was with him. I didn't mind—I liked having someone around who could keep up with me, and who seemed to understand the darkness that seems to constantly hover around me. And when Murphy came back from Mexico a total wreck, after she found out who she really was, it was me she ran to for comfort after that long drive—not Lip, not Fiona, and especially not you, because we'd bonded so much. And I was the one she told first when she found out everything—me. She could've gone to you, to ask why you never tried to find her, but she came to me, because I'm her fucking twin, and I'd been there for her. And that's what a family does, Frank—they're there for each other, something you wouldn't know how to do if it bit you in the ass. You know how to be there for yourself, Frank, but you don't know how to be there for anyone else. You're nice to us when you want to bum a cigarette, or steal some of our cash, or just need our services for some fucking criminal enterprise. But I'm fucking done now, Frank, and I think I speak for all of us when I say get the fuck out of here, and leave our family in peace."

Frank's eyes turned to Fiona then. "Fiona..."

"No," she said, looking away from him. "There's the door."

Frank looked at Lip. "Lip..."

"Get out Frank," Lip replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

Frank looked shocked then but quickly turned to Carl, trying to smile. "Carl..."

Carl shook his head. "Not this time, Frank."

Frank looked flabbergasted at that and quickly turned to Liam. "Liam..."

"Don't look at me," Liam said, looking away.

"Ian?" Frank asked, his voice a question.

Ian stood his ground. "I've said my piece."

Frank turned and looked at me then, attempting to force a smile to his lips. "And how about good girl Murphy? Got anything to say?"

I glared at him. "What they said. Get out, Frank."

"Murphy..."

"No!" I shouted then, losing all sense of control then as I marched over to him, grabbing him by his pathetic shoulders and hauling him towards the front door. I felt a certain amount of power then as I did something that my siblings had done numerous times over the years, and truly felt as if I was on a quest to complete every rite of passage. I yanked open the inner door then and pushed open the front door next, all the while listening to Frank's protests.

"Now wait a minute, Murph—"

I yanked him towards me then, glaring at him. "Don't you fucking ever call me that, you son of a bitch," I said, my voice shaking then as I tossed him down the stairs. "Stay the fuck out of this house and the fuck out of our lives!" I screamed at him, slamming and locking the door behind me before stepping back into the living room.

The back door opened again, and all of us Gallagher's immediately looked towards it, but we all found ourselves relaxing as Trevor stepped inside. "Hey," he said. "I went to the store and got the cake... Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine here," I said, looking from one shocked face of one of my siblings to the next. "So, who wants cake?"

. . .

I crossed my arms then as I sat up in bed with Nicholas the following evening; Iana was asleep already, and Nicholas and I were each illuminated by our laptops, typing up notes for the preliminary hearing he had in his latest case. I'd been told to take it easy, due to my kidney loss and the advanced stage of my pregnancy, but, provided that I didn't overdo it, I was permitted to help out Nicholas. I shoved my laptop away from me then, and Nicholas looked up at me, already concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I sighed, looking over at him. "It's Halloween tomorrow."

He nodded, going into a quick exposition to remind me. "Yeah. The theme this year is the 1920's, with a whole charity ball thing, and ballroom dancing..."

I felt my eyebrows knitting together. "So, men ask the women to dance, and then they choose the amount their going to donate?"

"Exactly," he replied.

I saved the document I was working on—I'd nearly finished anyway, and it wasn't due until close to Thanksgiving anyway—and put my laptop onto the nightstand beside my bed. "So, when were you going to tell me this?"

Nicholas sighed, saving his own work and setting it aside as well. "Look, Murph, I wasn't even going to go tomorrow night anyway."

I looked up at him like he was crazy. "What?"

"Yeah," he replied. "You just got back from the hospital, and I know you're tired of missing trick or treating with Iana..."

I sighed. "So, you just went ahead and made the decision for me? After we got our costumes and Liam's agreed to watch Iana?"

Nicholas shrugged. "Well, I guess I made a judgement call, Murph. I didn't know how up to it you would be..."

"I'm feeling fantastic, Nicholas," I replied. "Sure, I'm a little sore from it all, but the drugs are working really well. Sure, I look like a massive whale and I'll look ridiculous in my custom-made maternity flapper dress, but it would look bad if the firm's founder's son wasn't there for the event."

Nicholas tried his best not to laugh. "You don't look like a whale, Murph—you're pregnant with twins, and you've never looked more beautiful."

"Ha-ha," I said sarcastically. "I mean, Lucas has an excuse—he works across the country—but you're right here. Just because I'm a little sore doesn't mean we can't go..."

He smiled. "Okay," he said, reaching out and taking me hand, "we can go. On the condition that the minute you're feeling tired or you're in pain, that we go straight home. Okay?"

I grinned back at him. "Sounds fair," I replied.

. . .

Nicholas and I arrived at the event at the appropriate hour, and I was pleased that my ropes of pearls seemed to distract certain individuals from my pregnancy. Nicholas kept his arm around my waist as we walked, and I immediately guessed that it was because he wanted people to know that we were back together, but I soon realized something. He thought that I would need to lean on him—figuratively and literally—as times went on, and the thought touched me. However, I hoped that it would go both ways, and I hoped he would lean on me as well as we attempted to figure out our lives together.

"Murphy, darling!" Allie gushed, immediately stepping forward as we arrived, giving Nicholas just enough time to let me go so that his mother could embrace me. "Don't you look lovely. Are you feeling all right?"

I nodded. "I'm fine," I replied, watching as Nicholas spoke with Hugo. "I mean, I told Nicholas we absolutely had to come tonight..."

Allie smiled. "Well, nobody would have faulted you if you decided to sit this one out. You're recovering from a major operation."

I shrugged. "I'm fine, Allie. Really. And your son insisted that he and I get back to my place as soon as I'm tired or feeling off."

"As well you should," Hugo said, catching the end of my words as he stepped forward, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. "You're pregnant with our grandsons, Murphy. Allie and I want you to be careful."

"Really, Hugo," Allie admonished him, shaking her head. "No need to put pressure on the poor girl, my goodness..."

"No pressure," Hugo said, putting up his hands in surrender before putting his arm around Allie's waist with an indulgent look her way. "Meanwhile, I think your dance card has my name on it—all over it, Miss Torrance."

Allie blushed under Hugo's stare. "Really, Mr. Blomqvist? I'm not sure your wife would like it if you flirted with another woman..."

Hugo grinned, enjoying the game. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her," he replied, taking her by the hand and leading her out to the dance floor.

"That goes for your dance card as well, Murph."

I turned to look at Nicholas, placing my hands on my hips. "Oh, really?"

"Really," he replied, taking my hand and pulling me out.

We slow danced to the jazz music that filtered in through the impressive record player, and it was a relief that I didn't have to jump around and make an idiot of myself just to be period. I smiled up at Nicholas, my arms around his neck, his arms around my waist, not hesitating as I placed my head on his shoulder. We continued like this, lazily turning around, this way and that, until he shifted slightly, and I looked up.

"Feeling tired?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. I'm fine," I assured him.

He nodded. "If you're sure..."

I chuckled, standing on my toes and kissing him. "I'm sure. Don't worry."

He sighed. "I'm always going to worry, Murphy."

I grinned then, just wanting to hear it. "Why?"

"You know why..."

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. "No. Not recently, anyway..."

Nicholas rolled his eyes playfully then. "Because I love you."

I grinned, hating myself when a giggle escaped my lips. "I love you, too."

He smiled down at me, kissing me again. We continued dancing for a good half an hour, and then I was beginning to feel tired, so he led me towards Allie and Hugo—who were taking a break to oversee the donation collection—and we each gave some money to the cause. That year, because of me, I suggested that we donate to Children of the Night, and Trevor would be overjoyed at the amount we were pulling in. We said goodnight to Allie and Hugo, and they waved us off as we grabbed our coats, and walked out into the night towards my car.

"What would you say to a gift?"

I laughed aloud then, groaning then as I caught ahold of where the doctors had stitched me up, and waved Nicholas away when he showed concerned. "I'd say that we've still got almost two months before Christmas, and it's too soon," I managed to get out.

Nicholas nodded. "I see," he said, getting into the driver's seat of my car, as I let myself into the passenger seat. "Funny... I thought you liked gifts..."

I shrugged, buckling myself in. "Depends on the gift, I guess..."

He grinned then, reaching into one of his inner pockets and handing me a box, and immediately my heart hammered in my throat. "It's not what you think," he assured me, and I switched on the inner light of my car to get a better look. "Open it."

Quickly, I opened the box, relieved that there wasn't ring, but shocked that it did not contain a piece of jewelry, but instead held a key. "What is this?" I asked.

Nicholas laughed then, driving away from the firm and down the street, ignoring my questions as we drove all the way home, Halloween night continuing to darken around us. Finally, when we reached my street, and he pulled into my customary spot, he turned and looked at me. "You told me that you couldn't live without me."

I nodded. "Yeah, I said that."

"Did you mean it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Please. I was in the hospital, with tons of wires coming out of me, and I thought I could've died..."

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "So, you didn't mean it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Jesus, Nicholas. Of course I meant it. What does this all mean?"

He chuckled again. "Get out of the car and follow me."

I swore under my breath, but nevertheless got out of the car, pulling my jacket closer to me as I followed him across the street, towards the house we'd looked at before. Heart in my throat and hammering again, we walked through the gate, hand in hand, as I spotted that the house had been sold just two days previously. I looked up at Nicholas again as we walked up the steps and onto the porch, and, instinctively, I put the key into the lock and turned it, swiping on the lights as we stepped inside.

"You got furniture?" I cried.

Nicholas laughed. "Yeah. Mom helped me pick it out," he said as I wandered in from the lobby area and into the living room, which connected to the kitchen, and had a staircase all its own. "I guess, after she did your office, she has a general idea of what you like..."

"It's perfect," I whispered, turning around to face him then, my tears hovering behind my lashes as I tried my best not to shout for joy. "I love it. I love all of it."

Nicholas grinned. "I wanted us to have a place of our own, and you were half in love with the house already, and you did say you wanted to stay close to Ian..."

Immediately, I cross over to him, throwing my arms around him then and kissing him. "I love it, Nicholas, really. Thank you, thank you..."

Nicholas smiled down at me. "I want us to start our lives together. Everyone in your family is on board, and we've set a date to move in officially over the weekend."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?"

I grinned up at him. "Okay. I guess we're moving in together."

Nicholas grinned back at me. "I guess so," he replied.


	8. Finally

Chapter Eight: Finally

"You look happy."

I turned and gave Ian a look as I held onto Iana; I was brushing her hair, getting her ready as we prepared to get ourselves ready for everyone who was coming over that day to help us move. It would be quite a moving party—Fiona, Lip, Ian, Debbie, Carl, Franny, Trevor, Nicholas, and I would all be constantly schlepping boxes from Nicholas's car or from the house. I'd taken the liberty, with Ian and Nicholas's help, of clearing out my bedroom of all of the non-essentials as the week had passed, and so now all that remained were the boxes of all my accumulated shit—well, mine and Iana's—that were in need of transport.

"I guess I'm happier than not happy," I replied, finishing the job on Iana's hair and gently setting her down. "Now, do you remember what Mama told you?" I asked her.

Iana grinned. "Yeah. Run upstairs and make sure we have everything!"

I nodded. "That's right, my angel. Go on now," I said, slipping her hairbrush into one of her boxes and watching as she ran upstairs. "At least she likes the house..."

"Having second thoughts?" Ian asked.

I let out a laugh then; it was becoming easier to do so, for now it didn't hurt as much in my stitched-up area. "God no," I replied. "Nicholas and I are at a really good place, and the boys needed a nursery anyway..."

"You think you'd be moving in together, even if you weren't pregnant?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. He told me that he loved me before he knew about the pregnancy, but all the complications and shit got in the way... Maybe if we'd just agreed to be honest with each other from day one, things would've been different..."

"Oh, where's the fun in that?" Ian asked.

I felt my brows knit together. "Well, along with Debbie and Carl, we can all fit our sexual partners on one hand," I said, leaning back against the couch and giving him an amused expression, to which Ian appeared annoyed. "Must be an exclusive trait for the younger half of the Gallagher children," I said.

"You're in the older part—don't kid yourself," Ian replied, looking as if he wanted to throw a pillow at me, but decided against it. "Besides, Liam hasn't..."

"Other than himself?" I asked, grinning at him and Ian gave a disgusted expression. "You know it'll start soon. You prepared for that?"

Ian covered his ears. "I'm not listening."

"Hey, this is serious," I replied, reaching out and yanking one of his arms off from his ear. "You know you need to have the talk with him, right? Carl would just freak him out with horror stories about Kassidi, and Lip would get all technical about it."

"Well, why don't you tell him?" Ian asked.

I scoffed at that, getting to my feet and stretching my limbs, running my hands on my stomach and shaking my head. "Please. I'm the poster child for someone who shouldn't be giving the sex talk to her youngest brother."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Oh, well let's see. I didn't get the divine opportunity to help raise him, for starters. Then there's the matter of Liam's comfort level—he'd likely do better hearing this man-to-man. Not to mention that I was in denial about my sexuality until I was in my early twenties, and that I have two different baby daddies..." I turned around and looked at Ian, who looked surprised that I had come up with a list that quickly. "Sorry, but it had to be said."

Ian shook his head. "Well, I might not be a good candidate either."

"Jesus, Ian. You've fucked a woman," I replied, throwing up my hands. "We both have that in common—each fucking a woman..."

"Yeah, but you had a relationship with that woman," Ian said, getting to his feet with an amused expression. "And, if I recall correctly, you didn't 99.9% of the fucking, with the exception of the last time around."

I crossed my arms. "That's beside the point."

Ian sighed. "Lip and Carl are the only ones who are reliable enough to give him the talk, when it comes right down to it..."

I shuddered at the notion of the alternative. "Yeah. Frank would probably talk about the benefits of getting your sexual partner high first, given that, supposedly, different drugs can give you different kinds of orgasms..."

Ian smirked. "You really think Frank would go there?"

I fixed Ian with a look. "It's fucking Frank. What do you think?"

Ian nodded. "Yeah, guess you're right..."

I thought about it for a moment, considering everything, when a sudden thought came to me that I hadn't considered. "What about Kev?" I asked, looking up at Ian, who didn't look totally against the suggestion. "I mean, he lives right next door, and him and V have a healthy sex life between them. He's a good guy—offered me that job at the bar within minutes of knowing me, so he knows a good egg when he sees one..."

Ian smirked again. "Did you just say, 'good egg'? What are we? Some weird PSA from the 1950's about the benefits of etiquette or some shit?"

I rolled my eyes. "Regardless of my use of certain archaic expressions, I think maybe it'd be good for Liam to have a sit-down with Kev. Don't you?"

Ian considered it for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, that could work."

I gave Ian a smile then as there was a knock at the front door, and he gave my shoulder a squeeze before heading upstairs to collect Iana and Liam. I walked from the living room and opened the outer door, stepping into the anteroom before pulling open the front door and seeing Nicholas standing on the front porch. I felt my heart hammer immediately in my chest then, and felt my cheeks flushing as the hormones of the pregnancy threatened to take over my entire body then as I stepped forward.

"Good morning," I said, practically throwing myself at him and kissing him.

Nicholas chuckled against my lips, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me back. "Lip and Carl just got here," he explained, and I quickly got myself down and out of his arms, looking around to spot my brothers already hauling some boxes from Nicholas's trunk and up the stairs of our new place. "Hope you don't mind that I put them to work."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, of course not," I replied, running my hand through my hair. "I just wish I could be of more help. Whenever I picked up something much heavier than Iana, Ian would throw a fit. He's even paying Liam a few bucks to keep an eye on me..."

"As well I should," Ian replied, stepping into the vicinity, Iana in his arms, and Liam in his wake as he managed a smile for Nicholas. "Well, Liam, let's see if you can help Lip and Carl until Fi and Debs get here, okay?"

"Okay!" Liam said, sprinting past us all and running down the stairs towards Nicholas's car, and peering into the trunk before he extracted a box and hauled it into our yard.

"He's very excited," I said, giving Nicholas a pleading look. "I'll pay for anything that Liam breaks, I promise."

Nicholas grinned. "Don't worry—I specifically labeled the boxes that would be appropriate for him. Mostly full of books. You can't really break a book."

I blinked. "Wow. Thank you," I replied, reaching out and running my hand up and down his arm in a moment of happiness. "So responsible..."

"And I've seen enough," Ian said, handing Iana over to me as Trevor drove up. "Got to get to my boyfriend, and show him where we've stashed your things," he said, walking around Nicholas and down the stairs, towards Trevor's car.

I sighed, watching as Trevor got out of the car and kissed Ian before Ian explained that there were boxes outside the house, and in Nicholas's trunk. They headed back into the house together, with Trevor greeting the three of us, before they themselves began hauling boxes of mine and Iana's things to the house next door. "Sorry about him," I said quietly as they left the yard and walked across the street, boxes in hand. "Ian's trying, Nicholas, really. I can't tell you how many times I've spoken to him..."

Nicholas grinned. "He's spoken to me, too."

I shifted Iana in my arms, trying really hard to keep my cool. "I'll kill him," I replied, thankful that Iana seemed distracted by the goings-on outside, so much so that when Debbie and Franny pulled up in Fiona's car, that she managed to wriggle out of my arms, whereupon she bounded down the stairs, straight into Fiona's arms. "What the hell did he say to you?"

Nicholas smiled, pulling me towards him then and snaking a hand around my waist. "What you would expect from a brother who loves his sister pretty much more than anything," he said. "I mean, I admire Ian for his strength and devotion towards you, Murph, really I do."

I pursed my lips, watching as Fiona, Debbie, and Franny caught up with Iana for a moment. "I guess that's fine, in that context, but it doesn't really tell me what Ian said."

"Basically that he'd kill me if I ever hurt you again."

I laughed then, rolling my eyes. "Of course he fucking did," I muttered to myself, watching as Debbie opted to take Franny across the street to unload from Nicholas's car, while Fiona came back with Franny, smiling at the two of us as she approached. "Put on a smile—my favorite sister approaches," I said quietly.

"Debbie isn't your favorite?"

I sighed. "Fi and I are just closer," I said quietly. "Hey!" I said, breaking away from Nicholas for a moment to hug Fiona. I felt pleased when she hugs me back then, and even though she and I would never be as close as Ian and I were, she was definitely my favorite of my two sisters. "I hope the drive over here was good."

"Oh, you know—the usual with Debs," Fiona replied, pulling back. "How's everything?" she asked, gesturing towards my incision, hidden beneath a bulky pregnancy sweater. "Are things feeling okay today?"

"I can only get stronger from here," I told her with a grin.

Fiona gave me a thumbs-up. "That's what I like to hear!" she said, squeezing my shoulder before walking with Iana into the house, speaking quietly to her as they proceeded to grab some things to take over to the new house.

"You really feeling okay?" Nicholas asked, returning his arm to its previous position around my waist, kissing me on the cheek.

I smiled. "The boys kick the shit outta me whenever they think that I haven't had enough calories to sustain myself for four hours," I reply.

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "Is that right?" he asked, bending down then, staring directly at my stomach. "Boys, this is your father speaking..."

I felt myself burst out laughing, and attempted to push him away. "You seriously need to stop this right now," I said.

"No, they need to learn," Nicholas replied, laughing then as he attempted to dodge my blows to his head. "Boys, I don't like what I'm hearing from your mother. She tells me that you've been kicking her, and I won't stand for that. I'd say 'use your words', but you likely won't begin developing language skills for up to a year. Anyhow, I just wanted you to hear my voice. I love you both, and I just wanted you to know that." He stood up then, pulling me back against his side rather triumphantly. "Better?"

"Surprisingly, they just did a few flips then," I said, peering up at him in mock-confusion. "Are you a fucking wizard or something? I thought I was the only gifted person who didn't get a letter from Hogwarts..."

Nicholas smirked. "Ilvermorny," he replied.

I raised my eyebrows. "You're into Harry Potter?" I asked.

Nicholas nodded. "Very."

I pursed my lips. "What House are you?"

"Hogwarts or Ilvermorny?"

"Hogwarts first."

"Ravenclaw. Yours?"

"Gryffindor," I said quickly. "And Ilvermorny?"

"Horned Serpent. You?"

"Thunderbird," I replied.

"Odd," Nicholas said.

I nodded. "I think so, too... Do you think that the main characters ended up with who they were supposed to end up with?"

"I would've rathered Neville ended up with Luna, but beggars can't be choosers. I liked that Harry finally realized that Ginny was the right girl for him, and that Ron and Hermione ended up together like they were supposed to."

"I agree," I tell him, smiling up at him then. "Well, well, well. Nicholas Blomqvist is more of a book nerd than I originally thought..."

Nicholas looked like a combination of skeptical and intrigued then. "Is that a good thing?" he wanted to know.

I nodded. "It's a very good thing."

"Tell me how good of a thing it is, then."

I grinned, enjoying this game. "Well, let's just say if we were in our new house, in the master bedroom, right now, with no prying eyes watching, and no ears listening, I would pretty much do whatever I wanted."

"And what do you want to do, Murphy?" he asked.

I bit down hard on my lower lip then—dammit, these pregnancy hormones were really trying to get the best of me today. "We would do what any common adults do best," I replied, standing on my toes and moving my lips towards his ear. "We would fuck. Hard. Just like we did in our offices all those times, back when we weren't even a couple. But, of course, I much prefer looking at you..."

"Why?" Nicholas asked, and I detected the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rising at my words, and the heat on his skin. "Why do you like looking at me?"

"So I can make sure I'm doing all the things you like," I said softly to him. "I want to make sure that we're in it together. And I want to make sure that you're making me as happy as I'm making you," I tell him.

"You always make me happy, Murphy," Nicholas whispers.

I giggle then, pulling back from him. "Do I?"

He nods. "Yes."

"Dammit, I can't leave you two alone for ten minutes, can I?"

I turn around then, spotting Ian coming across the street then, and immediately find myself backing away from Nicholas, as if I was a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Something wrong, Ian?" I asked, trying to keep the annoyance from my voice.

Ian sighed. "Just us not knowing where to put your shit," he said, trying to remain calm. "Can you please come and help?"

I nodded. "Of course," I replied, stepping back into the living room for a moment, slipping my phone into my laptop case, and moving to follow him. "You still need to work on your respect and kindness towards Nicholas," I whispered to him, as Nicholas disappeared into the house to collect some boxes. "He's really trying, for your sake, to get along..."

Ian rolled his eyes. "He tell you?"

"That you threatened to kill him if he hurt me again?" I asked as Ian pushed open my gate and as walked into my new yard. "Yes. We're being honest with each other."

Ian rolled his shoulders then as we approached my porch. "I wasn't kidding. Once false move, Murph, and he's fucking dead."

I put out my arm then, preventing him from walking up the stairs. "Ian."

"Don't," he said, his voice firm as he jerked his head towards me. "Yes, I am taking my fucking meds. Please, don't pull a Fiona and demand to know..."

"Okay," I said, moving my blocking arm to his shoulder. "I believe you. Just please, don't commit murder, because I would find it very hard to represent and not represent you. I'd feel compelled because you're my brother, but also compelled to throw you to the wolves so that you could rot in prison."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't represent me?"

"Not if you killed Nicholas," I replied.

He nodded. "Really?"

"No. Yes. I don't fucking know," I said, smacking him on the arm as he laughed. "Just, promise me—no killing. That's all I ask."

Ian spread his hands. "If he doesn't hurt you, fine," he replied, going up the stairs, and I quickly moved to follow him.

Due to my family's help, Nicholas and I were all moved in just after seven o'clock, and Nicholas decided it would be an opportune time for a pizza party in the backyard. I was shocked at the table and twelve matching chairs in the backyard, and was pleased that Nicholas had considered everyone. Even Ian seemed pleased by this, and as I chewed my pizza with extra cheese, all I could think about was my brother and boyfriend ultimately getting along.

When eight o'clock rolled around, Fiona, Debbie, and Franny said their goodbyes, driving off into the night. Lip and Carl said goodnight shortly thereafter, and Ian told me that Trevor was going to spend the night, so he, Liam, and Trevor would be taking off soon, too. Per Iana's wishes, I let Nicholas put her to bed that night, while Trevor walked Liam over to the house, which gave me and Ian another minute alone.

"It's like the end of an era," Ian said quietly.

I smiled at him. "More like the beginning of a new one."

Ian nodded. "I'll try to think of it that way."

"Hey, I know I don't need to remind you that my door is always open, and I am literally just across the street," I said, squeezing his shoulder. "You are my best friend, and my brother—my fucking twin. Nobody's going to step in and separate us again, Ian. They're not. I wouldn't let them, I can promise you that."

Ian hesitated for a moment before he yanked me into his arms, hugging me. "I know that," he said quietly to me. "Doesn't mean it makes it any easier."

I held tightly onto him. "I know," I said, knowing that we were both in tears. "But I also know how strong we are. And it's not like I'm moving to another country or something. I'm still here, and I'll come over all the time, and so will you. This isn't a death sentence to our family, Ian, it's absolutely not that."

Ian pulled back then, just staring at me for a moment before he laughed. "It just feels like yesterday that we found each other..."

I laughed back at him. "I know. It really does..."

" _You want to talk?" he asks. "Talk."_

 _I sighed. "Look, this isn't going to be easy, but I do know that, in time, maybe we can come to an understanding about all this. So, please, be patient with me."_

 _Ian sighed. "Okay."_

 _I sighed, knowing that I should start at the beginning. "I got a call last week from Judge Whitmore, who was impressed with some case notes of mine," I began. "He's been following me academically, and was so impressed that he decided to do me a favor."_

" _What kind of favor?"_

" _A legal favor," I replied. "He got my birth certificate."_

" _So, you know who you are?" Ian asks._

 _I nodded. "Yes," I replied, feeling my voice shaking as I said it. "I know who I am."_

" _Tell me, then," Ian said. "Tell me who you are."_

" _Ian, it's not that simple..."_

" _Scar, fucking tell me, or don't bother talking to me again," he replied._

 _I raised my eyes to his. "Ian, please..."_

" _Fuck this," Ian said, turning around and walking away from me._

" _Murphy Gallagher!" I called after him, and Ian stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at me with a horrified expression on his face._

" _Scar, what are you...?"_

" _Murphy. Margaret. Gallagher," I say, chopping up the words into sentences as I reach into my briefcase, handing my birth certificate to him. "See that? Murphy Margaret Gallagher, daughter of Frank and Monica Gallagher."_

" _Scar..." Ian whispered._

" _What?" I asked._

 _Ian raised his eyes to mine, from where they'd been staring at the birth certificate. "The date. It's the date..." He stammered, unable to speak._

" _What about it? I assumed we were Irish twins..."_

" _We're not Irish," Ian replied, and I felt my eyes widen then._

" _What are you saying?" I whispered._

" _We're just fucking twins," Ian said quietly._

"You remembering it, too?"

I shook my head at him, then found I was smiling. "Yeah. Maybe a little."

"It was pretty scary for me," he admits softly. "I guess I never assumed that such a significant part of me would be missing, and for so long..."

I nodded at him. "I know what you mean."

He nodded back at me. "Okay, we can cut out the waterworks," he said, and I wiped my tears away, as he did his. "My boyfriend is waiting for me."

I laughed then. "So's mine."

"Okay, then," Ian said, pulling me in for one last hug. "See you tomorrow, then."

I nodded. "Right. We're cooking you breakfast. Come over around eight, then. And bring some eggs, but we've got everything else covered."

"Eggs," Ian said, pulling back from me then. "You got it," he went on, letting me go entirely and walking towards the front door, which he opened. "Okay. Goodnight, Murphy."

I nodded, following him to the door so that I could lock it behind him. "Goodnight, Ian," I replied, watching him walk down the stairs, through the gate, across the street, and towards the house I'd once called home.

. . .

Thanksgiving passed, and Nicholas relented and gave in to my wishes for us to spend it at my former home. I loved having a boyfriend who was becoming a part of my family, and Iana was over the moon at our entire family paying attention to her. Once the week after Thanksgiving dawned, I went online and relentlessly began Christmas shopping; I'd been given the all-clear to return to work already, but only after the twins were born. I was officially in the home-stretch of my pregnancy, and I would not allow myself to get distracted by case work of any forms. My priorities were getting Iana to and from preschool, grocery shopping, Christmas shopping, cooking, and cleaning. It was a full-time job, and I quickly found that I was loving each and every minute of it.

Once the end of the month came, and I was very pregnant, Nicholas and I were up late on Christmas Eve wrapping gifts, and I remembered the previous year, when Nicholas and I weren't really talking, and how I had to tiptoe my way through every conversation. I would never want to go back to those days, filled with uncertainty, and found an inner peace, now that I had Nicholas by my side again. It all seemed more permeant, now that we were living together, and a lovely calm had settled over the household, one that I would not wish to take back.

"I just realized something."

"Hmm?" I asked, wrapping up the complete _Harry Potter_ series for Iana—all in hardback—for a Christmas present. It was a couple years too early, but maybe she would like it in time. "What's that?" I wanted to know, looking up at Nicholas.

He smiled. "It's almost midnight."

I looked up at the antique clock we had on our mantle, just above the fireplace, which Iana had made us swear not to light, due to Santa's upcoming arrival. "So it is."

Nicholas smirked at me then, obviously knowing something I didn't. "It's almost midnight, and you haven't opened your one Christmas Eve gift yet."

I sighed, finishing taping up the volumes of books before grabbing some pink ribbon, doing my best to tie it myself. "That's a rule for children, Nicholas."

"We're all young at heart, Murph."

I scoffed, finally managing to pin the ribbon down accordingly and tie it up. "Well, I gave you your present before breakfast this morning," I said, locking my eyes to Nicholas's, which hastily darkened with desire. "I think I would have heard a complaint by now..."

"No complaints here," Nicholas assured me. "It was amazing."

I wiggled my hips then, quickly stopping when I remembered I was pregnant, and, knowing how pathetic it must've looked, lowered my eyes. "Yes. Well, I'm not sure if we should do a pre-Christmas gift, Nicholas..."

"Why?" he asked, offering me a box—it was black velvet, and it had a white ribbon tied around it, and I felt my eyes widening.

I shook my head. "Nicholas..."

"Wait," he said, and our clock chimed midnight, and he grinned in a moment of satisfaction then as he handed it over. "Merry Christmas."

"You better not have," I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling then and I pulled at the ribbon, relieved when it untied in one pull. Trying to keep my hands from shaking, I slowly opened the box then, revealing an oval-cut, four-carat brilliant diamond on a platinum band, which too boasted smaller diamonds on a brilliant pave. I felt my heart hammering in my throat then as I looked up at Nicholas, who just smiled at me.

"Marry me," he said then.

"Nicholas..."

"It's not just because you're pregnant, or because we're already living together," he said quickly to me, and I found I was shaking then. "It's because I'm in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Nicholas..." I tried again.

"Murphy Margaret Gallagher," Nicholas said, taking the ring from its box and getting onto one knee, as he smiled up at me, "I love you. I want to be your husband, and a proper father to Iana, because she deserves one. Not that Ian hasn't been amazing, and you've done a wonderful job as her mother, but I love that little girl..."

I felt my eyes fill with tears then as a smile came onto my face. "Nicholas..."

"Murphy Margaret Gallagher," he said again, holding out the ring to me. "Will you marry me and be my wife and partner in crime, and in life, forever?"

"Yes," I said, my heart hammering in my throat. "Yes, I will. I'll marry you, Nicholas!" I cried out then, holding out my hand then as it shook, holding onto my wrist then as Nicholas slipped the ring onto my finger. I threw my arms around him then, my sobs filling the room then, although it was from joy, not displeasure.

I could barely sleep that night, I was so excited, and once Nicholas and I woke up to Iana screaming for joy that Santa had come again, we went downstairs. The two of us sat Iana down and explained things to her, and my daughter took it in her stride, with a flair of excitement. It was after we opened our gifts and had breakfast, after getting dressed and making ourselves presentable, that we were waiting for Iana downstairs to put on all her new winter clothes, that I turned to Nicholas.

"I don't want to wait."

Nicholas turned to me then. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not the kind of girl who wants a wedding in the middle of summer at some coastline manor house that'll be forgotten about in fifteen minutes," I replied. "I want you, me, Iana, your parents, Ian, and Fiona there. I want Judge Whitmore to marry us at the courthouse, I want your parents to be witnesses, I want Iana to be the flower girl, I want Fiona to be my Maid of Honor, and I want you to ask Ian to be your Best Man. If you're okay with that..."

Nicholas smiled. "A no-frills wedding?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I want to do it tomorrow."

Nicholas looked me over then. "Are you sure?"

I nodded again, grinning at him. "I'm positive. Fiona did a courthouse wedding when she did it, but it lasted five fucking minutes because she didn't keep people in the loop. We're putting the most important people into the mix. The rest will follow."

My fiancé grinned. "Okay."

I blinked. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said, pulling me towards him. "We'll break the news to Ian and Fiona over gifts this morning, and then when we go over to my parent's house for lunch, we'll tell them. I'm sure Dad can be persuaded to call Judge Whitmore."

"And Iana got that beautiful new dress from me," I said quietly. "And I know Fiona will want to take me wedding shopping tomorrow morning..."

"So, it's agreed," Nicholas replied. "We'll aim for tomorrow afternoon."

"Murphy Margaret Gallagher-Blomqvist," I said quietly.

Nicholas smiled. "You're going to hyphenate?"

I nodded. "I am. I was without my own name for so long that I can't just throw it away, even if I get married to the man of my dreams."

Nicholas grinned. "That sounds fair."

. . .

Nicholas and I were married the following afternoon; I had just enough time to get a dress with Fiona's help, and Nicholas surprised me by having a bouquet of red roses delivered to the courthouse. Judge Whitmore was only too happy to marry us, and he was swapping stories with Hugo and Allie as Fiona got me ready. Once my dress was on, I stared at myself in the mirror in the makeshift dressing room, and smiled at myself.

"I'm a pregnant bride," I said, and Fiona's eyes met mine in the mirror. "God help me—I'm officially a walking sin."

Fiona put her arms around me then. "Plenty of people have gotten married when they're pregnant, Murph. Trust me—it's fine."

"But white is supposed to be a virginal color," I said, thankful that Allie had agreed to make sure that Iana didn't ruin her new dress, and was somewhere at the courthouse. "God knows I'm not a virgin—far from it."

"Didn't you tell Ian you could count your partners on one hand?"

I scoffed. "Yeah. Jessica, Lip, Mickey, Nicholas, and Josh," I replied.

Fiona nodded. "There you go. Had we been in a church, I think it would've fallen down because of that second one."

"Ha-ha," I said, straightening my veil. "Well, it looks like we're ready. I'm glad that Lip, Debbie, Carl, and Liam came. Franny seems to take to being a flower girl really well, and Lip, Carl, and Liam make dashing groomsmen..."

"And not to mention Debbie being a bridesmaid," Fiona said, turning me around to get a good look at me. "How are you feeling? Okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Fine." I smoothed the front of my dress, still feeling slightly unattractive due to the fact that it was a maternity dress and not some Vera Wang. "Nicholas promised that we could renew our vows in a couple of years. Hopefully I'm not suddenly fifteen months pregnant then or something," I joked, turning then as the door opened, and Ian stepped inside. "Hey," I said to him as Fiona turned around.

Ian looked me over then, looking proud. "You look beautiful, Murph," he said, extending his arm to me. "We're ready."

"He's right—you do look beautiful," Fiona assured me, kissing me on the cheek and adjusting my veil for me. "And don't worry—Frank hasn't been told by anyone, so it's unlikely he'll come by and ruin this wedding."

"We can only hope," Ian said.

I stepped forward and took Ian's arm. "Showtime, I guess," I said with a grin.

The ceremony was beautiful—if not simple—and Hugo and Allie just seemed pleased to be included, and didn't seem to mind that I'd requested a simple day for ourselves. Once we were proclaimed as Mr. and Mrs. Blomqvist, I hastily cut in, letting everyone know that I would be going by Gallagher-Blomqvist, and my siblings looked moved that I'd decided to keep the name, effectively keeping ties with all of them, even if I was now married. We returned to our house, where Trevor joined us, apologizing for his inability to come, as he had had a crisis with one of his teens. I assured Trevor that we had plenty of photos for him to see, and that he didn't miss much of it, really.

Five days into our marriage, as the New Year officially began, I went downstairs with a spring to my step. I was wearing my robe and slippers, my wedding ring still on its finger as I went into the kitchen around seven-thirty. Pleased with myself, I started whipping up pancake batter, and went into the fridge for some eggs and sausages. As I cooked, I knew that the scent would wake up my daughter and my husband and, sure enough, the two of them came downstairs together, Nicholas holding onto her.

"Mama, can I watch T.V.?" Iana asked.

I smiled. "Yes, but PBS only, remember," I said, kissing her on the cheek. "And just for a few minutes—breakfast will be ready soon."

"Okay, Mama," she said, waiting for Nicholas to put her down so that she could scurry off into the living room.

Nicholas moved to set the breakfast table. "She's turning into such a polite little thing. I think she was raised exceptionally well."

I smirked, flipping the pancakes before moving back to the eggs—which I'd scrambled—and flipped them around the pan, before doing the same to the sausage. "Yes, she was," I confirm, the satisfaction of someone complimenting my daughter never getting old.

"Listen, Murph, we need to talk..."

I looked up at Nicholas, wondering if he would say something like this was all too much too soon, or if he never wanted this domestic bliss at all, and that being married to and moving in with me was the worst mistake of his life... "What is it?" I asked him, hating myself for the dread that seemed into my tone. "Are you okay?"

Immediately, Nicholas smiled and moved to my side. "It's nothing bad."

I nodded. "Okay. Then what is it?"

My husband kissed me then and took my hand. "I want to talk to you about me possibly adopting Iana," he replied.

I raised my eyebrows then, floored. "What?" I asked.


	9. Labor of Love

Chapter Nine: Labor of Love

"What are you saying right now?" I asked, trying to keep a level head about this as I quickly turned back to the stove, just to make sure our breakfast didn't burn. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Because jerking around a woman is really uncool, Nicholas. Jerking around your wife is even worse. And jerking around your pregnant wife, who is also a woman, is the worst thing you can do!"

Nicholas smiled then, and I realized that he was going to be patient with me. "I love you," he said, taking me by the waist and pulling me towards him, "and I love Iana. I want us to be a family, Murph."

I shake my head. "But..."

"Look, Murph, think about it. We're married now, but what if something, god forbid, were to happen to you. I know Ian would raise Iana right, I'm not disputing that," he said, resting his forehead against mine, "but don't you want Iana and the boys to stay together?"

I sighed, raising my eyes to his. "You're right," I said quietly, lowering my hands to my stomach, which Nicholas covered. "I know you're right. I want them to stay together, Nicholas, and I don't want the possibility of a convoluted separation. I just..."

"What?"

"I want your word that Ian, Fiona, Lip, and the rest of my family will be involved," I replied, "if anything does happen to me. No matter what, they're half-Gallagher, and I want my siblings to know about my kids as they grow up."

Nicholas smiled. "You don't even have to ask me that, Murph. Of course I would keep your family involved with the kids."

I nodded. "Okay," I replied, turning back to breakfast, which was nearly finished. "I'll finish this up and get it on the table. Can you somehow manage to drag Iana from the T.V. so we can have breakfast together?" I asked.

Nicholas grinned. "Can do," he replied, turning me around quickly to kiss me before he walked into the living room.

I shook my head then, smiling at myself as I took a platter out from a cabinet, putting the pancakes onto it and bringing it to the table as I heard Nicholas and Iana speaking to one another in the next room. I quickly brought the eggs and sausages to the table, working quickly to make sure that everyone had napkins and something to drink before I put the pans into the sink and made my way over to the living room.

"Hello, you two."

Nicholas made a grab for Iana then, surprising her so that she squealed with delight as he switched off the T.V. "Smells great, honey," he said, kissing me on the cheek as he walked past me and towards the table, setting Iana into her booster seat and sitting down at the head of the table, while I took the foot. "Wow, everything looks great!" he commented, lifting up the platters and serving everyone before he took some for himself.

"So, you go back to work on Monday, and Iana has preschool then, too," I said, turning to look at my daughter as she worked double-time to get a bite of eggs into her mouth.

"That's right," Nicholas replied, cutting into a sausage link. "I don't mind taking her in if you've got stuff to do."

I shook my head, buttering a pancake. "No, that's all right," I replied. "I'm taking her in bright and early, and then I'm coming back to vacuum the carpets," I said, proud at myself for having a set schedule in mind already. "Then, Iana's out at noon, so she and I are going to get some lunch, do some grocery shopping, and figure out what's for dinner so that I'll either be making it or have it cooked by the time you get home."

Nicholas grinned. "Have I mentioned to you lately how much I love your cooking?"

I laughed. "No, but please, don't stop," I replied. "Any requests from the store, or dinner at all this week?" I wanted to know.

"I love your meatloaf," Nicholas replied. "So, maybe you could make that and some mashed potatoes or something..."

I nodded at him, pleased that he felt comfortable requesting a meal. "Sure, I can," I replied. "I can even make you a meatloaf sandwich to take to work."

Nicholas smiled, his phone vibrating then, so he quickly lowered his utensils. "I'm sorry... Did we have a rule about phones at the table?"

"Only at dinner," I replied, "or during an important discussion."

He nodded for a moment, mulling over my words. "And is this considered to be an important discussion, Murph?" he asked.

I smiled, shaking my head. "Not really, but thank you for asking."

He rolled his eyes at me, chuckling to himself as he got out his phone. "Oh, a text from my brother-in-law," he said.

"Oh?" I asked, putting a bite of pancake in my mouth and chewing it, before allowing it to escape down my throat. "Did Lucas and Ben make it official?"

"Ha-ha," Nicholas said. "Remember when I said I wasn't the marrying kind?"

I nodded. "Sure."

"Lucas is worse," he informed me. "No, it was actually from your side of the family that sent me the text..."

"Which leaves four potential possibilities—Lip, Ian, Carl, and Liam," I said, considering them all in my mind. "You've got their numbers?"

"And Fiona and Debbie's," Nicholas confirmed.

"When?"

"The day we got married," Nicholas replied. "And the text was from Ian."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh. What does he say?"

"He suggested a Sunday night family dinner, alternating between here and his place," he said, and Nicholas looked surprised at the proclamation. "He says that he thinks it was strengthen our bond as a family."

I nodded. "I'm all for it, unless it makes you uncomfortable..."

Nicholas shook his head. "No, of course not," he replied. "I'm accepting right now. Besides, my parents do Sunday lunches every now and again, so it won't run into that."

I smiled, pleased that Nicholas and Ian were making an effort to mend fences as I continued eating my breakfast. Once everyone had finished, Nicholas volunteered to clean up while I took Iana upstairs to get ready, and myself ready. We didn't have any set plans for the day, but being that I was pregnant, Nicholas was willing to cater to my every whim, which I had no problem with, on a personal level. Once Iana and I were ready, Nicholas was finished cleaning up the kitchen and was in the shower, and I amused Iana by reading to her.

"Where's Nicky?" she wanted to know.

I put my thumb on the page of the Beatrix Potter story I was reading—Peter Rabbit had just escaped Mr. McGregor's garden, and I knew Iana would want to get back to the story rather quickly after her question had been answered. "He's in the shower, sweetheart. Don't worry—we'll see him soon."

"Okay," Iana said, leaning back against me then—which proved slightly difficult, due to my advanced stage of pregnancy. "Keep reading, please, Mama."

"All right," I replied.

Nicholas came and found us shortly thereafter, and, thankfully, we'd finished the story and Iana was more than ready to leave the house. We walked outside and into the snowy-covered area, and trudged across the street, letting ourselves in to my former house, as Ian had said I could hold onto my key, and trekked into the living room. Liam was on the couch, and looked pleased at our arrival, and his excitement brought Ian downstairs, who seemed surprised at our arrival, and was pleased.

"Hey," Ian said, scooping up Iana and pulling me in for a hug. He hesitated for a moment before letting me go, setting Iana back onto the ground before walking up to Nicholas, and put out his hand to him. "How's it going, man?" he asked.

Nicholas did his very best not to look too surprised as he took Ian's offered hand. "Fine, man. It was nice of you to let us know about Sundays."

Ian gave a nod. "Nice of you to accept the invitation."

"Liam," I said, turning to face my youngest sibling, "why don't you take Iana outside to build a snowman, okay?"

Liam looked between us then, but finally trudged over to the front door, pulling on his winter clothes before taking Iana by the hand and leading her outside.

"Everything okay?" Ian asked, watching as Liam pulled the door shut behind them. "Or did I miss something?"

"You didn't," I say, unwinding my scarf from around my neck and removing my hat, shaking out my hair as I loosened it from the confines of the earmuffs Nicholas had given me. "Nicholas and I actually have some news..."

Ian looked curious. "I'd ask if you were pregnant, but you are already. And you just got married, so it can't be that..." His gaze shifted from one of us to the next, and I quickly judged that he was thinking that we were divorcing, but thought it wouldn't be appropriate to ask. "So... Is one of you dying or something?"

Nicholas laughed. "No. Nothing like that, but maybe we could sit down..."

"Sure!" Ian said, immediately making sure the couch was in good condition before I managed to lower myself into it. "Sorry—I keep forgetting whenever you're here that you're not living here anymore. But we're family, Murph—you don't need my permission to sit down."

I smiled, getting my coat off from around my frame and placing my hands over my stomach in a protective manner. "Thanks for that," I say, leaning into Nicholas as he sits beside me.

"Don't mention it," Ian replied, sitting in the chair beside the couch. "So, tell me what's going on before I explode," he joked.

"Well..." Nicholas said, turning to look at me, wondering if it was best if I was the one to break the news to Ian.

I nodded, turning back to look at my brother. "Well, Nicholas brought up this morning that he would like to adopt Iana," I said carefully.

Ian raised his eyebrows. "Adopt Iana?"

I nodded again, wanting to break it to him gently, for I didn't know offhand how he would react to anything. "Yeah. He wants to adopt her."

Ian mulled it over for a moment. "I see."

"This wouldn't change anything—if something were to happen to me and to Murphy," Nicholas told Ian quickly. "You're still the number-one familial guardian, and I respect that."

"So, what does this mean exactly?" Ian asked.

"It's for the sole purpose of Iana and the boys being raised together," I replied. "As such, only I have legal custody over Iana; me being married to Nicholas has no bearing on it. If he were to adopt her, and if something were to happen to me, then he would raise both Iana and the boys together, as one family, without the courts getting involved, and potentially taking her away from the unit."

Ian nodded. "Well, I guess I understand," he replied. "I mean, obviously if anything happened to you, I would still want a relationship with Iana and the boys..."

"Of course," Nicholas said, his voice filled with concern. "I would never forbid or prevent Iana or the boys from seeing you, Ian, or anyone else who wanted to see him. You're family—all of you—and to keep someone away from their family is downright criminal. Unless it's someone like Frank..."

Ian's attention was immediately gained. "Yeah. Fuck Frank."

Nicholas grinned for a moment before returning to his traditional serious demeanor. "I never really got the opportunity to say how sorry I am about all the bullshit he put you through. I know it's not my fault, but you're all my family now, too, Ian, because of Murphy, and I need you to know that I'm standing by this. No matter what."

Ian looked shocked at the declaration. "Standing by this? As in, standing by us?"

Nicholas nodded. "Of course. Frank is a user who is a total asshole who shouldn't have been a parent. Although, selfishly, I'm glad he was, because I wouldn't have found Murphy if he wasn't."

Ian sighed. "I'd like to say Murphy being adopted was an escape..."

Nicholas smiled tightly then. "I know to the extent that Murphy has told me that it was far from the escape that the system intended. It's a fucked world, Ian, and I'm just glad she found her way back to you."

"You and me both," Ian replied. "Not that you need it, but you have my blessing—to adopt Iana, I mean."

I blinked. "Really?"

Ian smiled. "Yeah, really. I just think you should try and explain to Iana what's going on. She's a smart kid, and she has every right to know."

I bit my lip. "Look, I know you don't like talking about it, and even though his name isn't on the birth certificate, I'll have to find a way to reach out to Mickey... Let him know what's going on here." I scoff then, shaking my head. "You know, I never even told him that Iana was his, or that I kept her... I promised I would, but..."

"What?" Ian asked, obviously trying to keep it together.

"Something get in the way?" Nicholas wanted to know.

I nodded, the damned pregnancy hormones causing tears to enter my eyes, which I quickly managed to dash away. "Yeah. Yeah, life got in the way..."

. . .

Per Ian's request, Nicholas and I sat down with Iana that evening and told her what had been decided between the two of us. Iana, in her cheeky way, seemed to think that Nicholas was her father already—which wasn't so far-fetched, due to their similar colorings. Nicholas found the entire conversation amusing and, at the end of it, said that he would tell Allie and Hugo on that following Monday, and that they would figure out a way to expedite the paperwork.

I thought that was all well and good, but immediately felt guilty about not telling Mickey about Iana sooner. I'd promised him that I would, and I never went back on my word, as often as I could avoid doing so. As I sat on the couch in the living room that night of the new house, I considered all that had happened over the past few years, after discovering who I was, and the situations I'd found myself in because of it.

No matter how much I loved Iana, and no matter how many times Ian assured me that he'd forgiven me and that we needn't discuss the matter any longer, I couldn't get over the fact that I'd allow myself to get so drunk to just let all inhibitions go out the window. I was never like that completely, although I had certainly escaped the cocoon I'd made for myself over the years, once I discovered my identity. And while I understood that Mickey's and my combined hurt and pain had encapsulated itself to the point of no return, it was officially something that I could never take back and, whether I liked it or not, Iana was a part of all that. She was the manifestation of something that should never have happened under any circumstances, and while I couldn't have been happier to have such a child, I knew that, deep down, Ian must have harbored some resentment towards the situation, one that could never be taken back.

"Murph?"

I looked up then, seeing Nicholas standing on the stairs, in an old T-shirt and a pair of boxers and, had I not been pregnant, he would've looked pretty appetizing right about then. "Yeah?" I asked him, forcing myself to speak and not drool over my husband.

"It's getting close to midnight. You coming to bed?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't realize I had a curfew."

Nicholas smirked. "You don't—of course you don't. I just don't want to see you exhausted in the morning, for Iana's sake."

Rolling my eyes, I pushed myself to my feet, walking towards the stairs and carefully making my way up them. "Keep your shirt on, Blomqvist," I said, managing to just get past him. "I'm coming to bed."

Nicholas watched me as I walked around him. "No promises—like I always say, Murph, you've never looked more beautiful," he says as he follows me into our bedroom.

. . .

The lethargy that I'd expected in my final days of my pregnancy surprisingly didn't come, and I found I was more energized than ever before. I was over at the house with Ian and Liam one afternoon, during the week of my due date, with Iana upstairs with Debbie and Franny. Nicholas was due back home from work at six, and Fiona and Lip were due to come by with Carl at some point later. I was sitting at the kitchen table with Ian, just talking, keeping a watchful eye on Liam as he sat in the living room, constantly going over his homework and some program on T.V. he absolutely had to watch.

"How are you feeling?"

My eyes immediately snapped to Ian. "Right now or generally?"

Ian grinned. "Let's start with generally."

"Generally, I'm pretty great," I replied, smiling. "Nicholas and I have begun filling out the paperwork for him to adopt Iana."

"That's great," Ian replied. "He's getting excited, I assume?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I reply, leaning back against my chair, running my hands along my stomach as I contemplated it. "I'm wondering if I need to explain to him that Iana's not going to be like a puppy to practice for the real thing..."

Ian grinned. "Please tell me that was a joke."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, that was a joke."

"And right now?" he asked, looking me up and down. "To be honest, you look like you're about to pop. When was your due date again?"

"It was open-ended," I reply. "Supposed to be anywhere from last Friday until this Friday so I guess we'll have to wait and see."

"Experiencing any pain?"

"No more than the usual kick to the gut," I confirmed.

"They've got Gallagher genes," Ian told me in an informative manner. "Speaking from the direct experience of being a Gallagher guy—"

"Hold up—you did not just say that," I said, trying and failing not to laugh.

"I did," Ian replied. "As I was saying, speaking from the direct experience of being a Gallagher guy, I know I tough guy when I see 'em. And these guys are gonna be tough, not just because they've got you as a mom, but they've got Nicholas as a dad, and me as an uncle."

I smiled at him, reaching across the table then and taking him by the hand. "It may just be the pregnancy hormones talking, Ian, but I can't tell you how much I love how you've embraced Nicholas since the wedding. I love how you've brought him into the fold and made him an honorary Gallagher family member. It really means a lot to me."

"I would say I did it for you—and it started out that way, believe me—but he really turned everything around for me. I see how much he loves you, Murph, and that kind of love... Well," he said, looking away from me in a moment of discomfort, "it's not like you can just walk out of your house and find it every day."

I scoffed. "Oh, really?"

Ian looked up. "What's your point?"

"Uh, well, for starters that Mickey lived in the neighborhood..."

Ian rolled his eyes. "That's beside the point."

"And not to mention that you literally met Trevor after a shift at work, on the street," I said, and shook my head. "It was about some signs or something, right?"

"Yeah, back when Frank had that homeless shelter."

"Jesus," I muttered. "He's definitely a master manipulator when it comes to the system, I'll give him that much..."

"I still think it's weird," Ian said then, as my eyes snapped back to his, "that he's your dad and not mine, and yet I'm the twin that got stuck with him."

I smiled then, squeezing his hand. "Really, you got the better end of the deal," I reply. "Sure, you had a shit ton more responsibility than I did growing up—pitching in financially and helping look after everybody—but you were loved. Me? I may have had a laptop and a car and all the spending money I could've asked for, but I was given to a family who shouldn't have been raising kids under any circumstances. It was a living hell, Ian."

"Guess we had different versions of hell, but still hell," Ian said quietly.

I nodded. "Still hell," I agreed. "But, at the end of the day, I wouldn't change a thing. Because even though we could've done better with the other growing up—who knows, maybe we wouldn't have freaked out as much—the bottom line is, we're here for each other now, at an age where one can't be taken from the other. We're in this, Ian, forever, because we're Gallagher's, and Gallagher's stick together."

Ian nodded, keeping a firm grip on my hand. "Always," he replied. He lowered his eyes to my grip on his hand, and blinked. "Murph?"

"Yeah?"

"You're gripping my hand really tightly..."

I blinked. "Am I? We were just having a moment there..."

He nodded. "No, I know. But it's... You're shaking..."

I swallowed then, unaware that I'd been doing so as I felt something pushing through me then and, when I lowered my eyes, I saw a flash of something. "Shit," I whispered.

"Murph?"

"Get me up—now!" I shouted then, and Ian got to his feet, dragging me out of the chair, as a gush of blood suddenly burst forth out of me. "Oh, my god..." I whispered.

"Murph?! Are you okay?!"

"They're coming," I whispered, my knees threatening to buckle. "Get Debbie down here, and tell Liam to watch the girls!" I said, bracing myself against the table, fumbling for my phone in my pocket and, as I found it, pressed the number three—which I'd reserved for Fiona's number. As my hands trembled, I dragged my phone to my ear, willing for her to answer...

"Hey, Murph!" she said, picking up on the second ring.

"Fi..." I whispered, my voice shaking as I tried to hold it together.

"You sound like you went for a run," she joked. "That's not a good idea—you're due any second now and heavy exercise when you only have one kidney—"

"Is ill-advised, I know," I said, trying to keep my temper with her. "Fi, that's actually why I'm calling... It's because I'm actually in labor right now..."

"Fuck!" she cried out. "Okay! I'm on my way! I'll call V and she'll come over and talk you through everything, okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah...okay..."

"Tell Ian to get you some towels... Is Debs there?"

"Yes, she's here," I confirmed, just as Debbie stepped into the room and, taking one look at me, turned around and headed back upstairs. "Well, she was here..."

"Oh shit—did she just run out of the room?!"

"Yeah..." I said, gritting my teeth as the pain intensified. "Shit... The contractions are coming like wildfire..."

"What do you mean?!" Fiona demanded.

"I mean I think I'm going to need to give birth on the fucking kitchen table, because I can no longer walk!" I shouted into the phone. "I'm barely holding it together as it is..."

"I'm texting V," Fiona said, obviously trying to keep me calm. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes, with Lip, so you don't need to worry about a thing, Murph..."

I nodded. "Yeah...okay..."

"I love you," she said. "See you soon, and remember to breathe."

I scoffed. "Yeah, I'll get right on that," I replied, cutting the call and bracing myself against the table as Ian returned to the room. "Hey..."

"Liam's all set upstairs with the girls," Ian said, and he quickly got everything off the table, as if he already knew what to expected. "And I called Nicholas..."

"Yeah?" I asked as Debbie emerged from upstairs, her arms filled with towels. "Gee, thanks," I said, and she flashed me a smile as Ian lifted me up onto the table.

"Nicholas is already on his way," Ian confirmed.

I nodded. "Okay," I said, trying to keep my voice together. "Fi's on her way, too, and she's coming with Lip... And she texted V..."

The front door opened then, and Kev and V sprinted into the room then, and I tried my best to smile at the two of them. Although not as close to me as they were to Fiona, Kev and V had definitely proven to be good allies in my life, and I was so relieved that they could be here. V immediately stepped forward then, taking charge with Debbie to spread out the towels, and Ian stood by my face, gripping tightly to my hand, while Kev tried not to get in the way.

"Hey, Kev," I said, doing my best to remain calm. "All good?"

"Yeah," he said, trying to focus on my face. "Part of me wants to know if you can still sing while in pain..."

"Kev!" V said, whipping around her head and glaring at him.

"...but I obviously won't, because that would be rude," he said, giving V a look. "So, how've you all been?"

"Oh, great, Kev," Ian replied. "I just love watching my twin sister writhe in pain..."

"Wow. I didn't know adult siblings had that kind of relationship..."

"Kevin!" V barked.

"And what about you, Debs? How's everything going?" Kev wanted to know.

"Oh, yeah, everything's great," Debbie said, finally finishing the organizing of the towels as she and V pulled down my pregnancy pants, and Kev and Ian immediately looked away.

"Nope," Kev said.

"Jesus," Ian whispered.

"Trying to remember how to breathe here..." I said, gripping tightly to Ian's hand. "Just, please, whatever you do, do not tell me what it looks like..."

"That's a given," Ian replied.

I raised my eyebrows. "I swear to god, if you're going to play the gay card right now, so help me, Ian Gallagher..."

"Hey, it gives me PTSD," Ian shot back. "Cut me some slack!"

There was a slam from the living room then and Fiona and Lip fly into the room, with Lip regulating himself onto the sidelines, making small talk with Kev as Fiona dashed over to my other side. "Did we miss anything?!" she asked.

I shook my head, gritting my teeth to try and stop the pain. "Not that I'm aware of, no," I replied, trying to keep myself from screaming.

"Breathe," Fiona said and, for once, I was not put-off by her bossing me around. "It's all going to be okay," she said, gently pulling her fingers through my hair. "You're okay. And you're going to have a pair of beautiful baby boys after this, Murph. Breathe..."

"Breathe," I said to myself then, forcing the breath out of my lungs and back in again. "I'm doing my best, Fi..." I whispered, my lip trembling as my vision clouded with tears. "I just wish it didn't fucking hurt so much..."

"It's all okay," Fiona said.

"Okay, we're almost at push," V said from down under, and I felt my entire body spasming then as my nerves threatened to take over.

"How's the traffic out there?" I asked, wanting to discuss anything but the impending birth, minus the father present.

"There's a wreck on the freeway," Lip put in, trying his best to look anywhere but where all the action was. "I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it clears up soon..."

"Shit! A wreck?!" I cried out then, looking from Fiona to Ian and back again. "What if it's so backed up that Nicholas misses it?!"

Debbie stepped forward. "I could pull out my phone and record this if you..."

"No!" Fiona, Ian, V, Kev, Lip, and I screamed at once.

"Okay, Jesus," Debbie muttered.

"He is not going to miss it," Fiona said, and I turned to look up at her. "And even if he does, all that matters is that you and the boys come through this happy and healthy."

I nodded. "I'll try to keep all of us that way," I said.

"And we are at push, Murphy!" V said a moment later, and I gripped Ian and Fiona's hands tightly, literally bracing myself for the pain that I hadn't felt with Iana—well, to a lesser extent, due to the drugs pumping through my system. Now, all I had was good, old-fashioned adrenaline to help me out... "Push!" V shouted.

I bore down, as they said you were supposed to do in all those godforsaken mommy books, and did my best to focus on pushing, my breathing, and the notion that Fiona and Ian were gripping onto my hands and not leaving my side. "Fuck!" I screamed. "This fucking hurts! I want my husband here..."

"Murph!" came a shout then, and the thunderous sounds of footsteps on the back stairs as the back door flew open, and Nicholas stood on the threshold, covered in snow. "Did I miss it?!" he cried out, stepping forward, and Fiona considerately moved aside so that he could take my hand, which he did, immediately. "Are you okay?!"

"Fine," I whispered, and gasped aloud then as I pushed again. "Trying to be..."

"And we've got a baby!" V cried out then, as Debbie stepped forward with a towel to wrap my firstborn son in.

"Lip," I whispered, searching for my brother. "Would you hold him for me, please?" I asked as Debbie showed him to me briefly. I was overwhelmed by the dusting of copper hair on his head, but that was all I saw of him as Lip stepped forward to take him, and as he and Kev ogled my newborn, I felt a new rush of pain then as V bent back down.

"Let's go with baby boy number two!" she said, watching and waiting. After a few moments of working on my breathing, V straightened up then. "And we've got a head!" she shouted, pushing my legs further apart. "Come on, Murphy! Push!"

"Shit!" I yelled then, and I detected Nicholas and Ian reacting physically and audibly to my own pain, as I was quite literally crushing their hands. "Fuck! V, how much longer?!" I screamed, just wanting this all to be over.

"Just another moment... Ah-ha!" she said, grabbing the towel Debbie offered then and wrapped up the second boy—this time, he had a fine crop of raven hair on his head. "And you," she said, gathering the first from Lip's arms and bringing them both over to me, "have two beautiful boys, Murphy. Congratulations."

"I'll call an ambulance," Fiona said, and everyone else drifted to the doorway to the living room, close enough to see us, but far enough away to give us a moment.

"Well?" I asked, looking up at Nicholas.

Nicholas gently wrapped the towels around my legs to make sure I wasn't exposed completely to the world. "They're beautiful, Murphy," he said softly.

I smiled. "Do you like being a father?"

He grinned. "I love it," he said, looking at me. "And I love you."

"I love you, too," I replied, leaning upwards then as he kissed me.

"So... Any names come to mind?" he asked.

"Well, I was thinking, for the first one," I said, nodding to the redhead, "maybe Clayton Nicholas Blomqvist—after my uncle and after you."

Nicholas smiled. "That's lovely. I like it."

"And for the second boy," I said, turning and looking at Fiona, "I was thinking of Fionn," I said, and looked at Kevin, "Kevin Blomqvist. If there are no objections."

Everyone in my family who had been present for the birth—including Kev and V—immediately started talking at once in support, and I turned to look at Nicholas.

"Well?" I asked, hearing the sirens outside, announcing their presence, letting me know that I would be in the hospital again shortly. "What do you think, Dad?"

My husband smiled. "Clayton Nicholas and Fionn Kevin Blomqvist. They sound like a couple of daredevils already," he joked.

"So, that's a 'yes'?" I confirmed.

Nicholas laughed. "It's a hell yes," he replied.

I lowered my eyes, gazing at my sons at trying not to sob openly at how beautiful the both of them truly were. "Hi, Clayton," I said to my first, before turning and looking over at my second born. "Hi, Fionn," I whispered. "Welcome to the Gallagher-Blomqvist family...and are you two in for a hell of a ride..."


	10. Shocking Correspondence

Chapter Ten: Shocking Correspondence

Even though the boys had been born at home, the hospital informed us that there were no ill-effects, and we were all permitted to return home the following afternoon. I was surprised that Nicholas had arranged to take the rest of the week off, and that he was going to take Iana to preschool for the next several weeks until I returned to the firm. I'd already gotten in touch with Rebecca by the time we were home from the hospital, giving her the date that I was due to return to the firm, and she already had a place prepared for the boys.

The boys would be sleeping in bassinets in the master bedroom with me and Nicholas for the time being, and would not be moved into the nursery until I too returned to work. I was pleased that my husband was just as willing to get out of bed to tend to them as I was, and he seemed to dote on them at every turn. I was equally pleased that he would include Iana in many things with the boys, such as telling her how to hold them, and talking her through changing a diaper. But, since my daughter was not yet three—and I had no idea if any other children would follow Clayton or Fionn—it was more a moot point.

"It's so quiet around here," Nicholas said quietly one late morning, during his paternity leave after he had taken Iana to preschool. "This can't be normal..."

I smirked from where I stood on our treadmill in the extra bedroom, which was now serving as a home gym for the time being. I was walking steadily—not quite a jog, due to the doctor's warnings when I'd had my kidney removed—my heart beating firmly in my ears, and I felt pleased that I could still manage to be so productive, despite the notion that I was now the proud parent of three children. "It's not so abnormal," I said, throwing Nicholas a grin from where he sat on the yoga ball, lifting weights.

Nicholas's eyebrows knitted together then. "How?"

"I guess good sleepers run in the family," I said, shrugging. "Iana slept exceptionally well right away, and was sleeping steadily through the night by six months. I was the one who had to wake her up," I said, shuddering at the notion of it.

Nicholas looked surprised. "You never told me that before..."

I shrugged. "You didn't ask. And I didn't really matter to you at that point, remember. It was all plain and simple fucking..."

"They can't hear you through the baby monitor, can't they?"

I scoffed. "Even if they did, there's no way in hell that they'll retain it," I assured him. "But I'm right, you know. We meant nothing to each other, past the physical level of things. Not for a long time..."

Nicholas was the one to smirk then. "Oh, really?"

I peered at him for a moment before I very nearly lost my footing. Gripping onto the treadmill before I fell, I cursed myself inwardly for my lack of focus. _Get it together_ , _Gallagher_ , I told myself in a firm voice. "Yeah, really," I said.

"What about when you nearly attacked me, after I told you that Jasmine was pregnant?"

I rolled my eyes. "Momentary lapse of judgement..."

"Really?" Nicholas said, lifting his weight steadily in his right hand then. "Because I could've sworn that it was because you were jealous..."

I scoffed, my timer going off that I'd been going at this steady pace for a good sixty minutes, and that I'd better hop off the damn thing now before I over-exerted myself. Switching off the machine and hopping down, I crossed my arms as Nicholas continued tirelessly with his reps and shook my head. "Not jealous."

"Oh-ho," Nicholas said, finishing his set and getting to his feet, staring down at me. "And I'm just supposed to believe you?"

I deliberately looked away from him. "Yeah."

Nicholas reached out then, putting his index finger beneath my chin and tilting it upwards, and waited for my eyes to lock with his before he spoke. "You're the one who pretty much threw yourself at me when you came back to the firm that day..."

I made a muttering noise then, breaking away from him and making a grab for the baby monitor as I moved to leave the room. "You know as well as I do that it could've been the pregnancy hormones or sleep deprivation..."

"I didn't know pregnancy hormones could linger after a birth," Nicholas replied, moving to follow me, "and you just said that Iana was sleeping through the night..."

"After six months, give or take," I replied, walking down the hallway. "She was only a few weeks old then..."

"Just admit it, Murph," Nicholas said, making a grab for my waist then and flipping me around so that I was facing him, and I felt a squeal escape my throat at the total unexpectedness of the gesture. "Admit it. You wanted me."

I struggled to free myself. "Nicholas..."

"Come on," he said, grinning up at me. "You know you did."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe I did, and maybe I didn't. The point is that we're together now, right? I mean, it's what you wanted..."

Nicholas looked up at me in shock. "You didn't want to be together?"

"Oh, my god!" I said, looking up at the ceiling. "You know I love our lives, Nicholas. I'm very happy to be your wife, and a mother to our kids. I'm happy—really. But, right now, I'm just feeling a little claustrophobic..."

Nicholas grinned, dragging me towards him so that our bodies were meshed together. "Really? I kind of like this..."

"Okay, you need to put me down now," I said and felt immediately relieved when he lowered me to the ground. "Much better," I replied, standing on my toes and kissing him. "Now, tell me, sir, what would you like for dinner?"

. . .

Nicholas's paternity leave ended promptly on Monday morning, and I found I was sorry to see him go. Not solely because having an extra pair of hands that you trusted unconditionally around was literally walking out the door, but because I found that spending solo time with my husband was a luxury, one that was not readily available to me. Thankfully, Nicholas had agreed to continue taking Iana to preschool on my behalf until I returned to work full-time, which left me to clean the house, take care of the boys, and to order groceries if I thought it was too cold for them to be out of the house for a long period of time.

The second day after Nicholas's return to work was vastly different, so much so that we had an unexpected visitor at the door. I had put the boys down for a morning nap, and was doing some laundry when the visitor arrived, and I was thankful that they merely knocked on the door, as the doorbell would've surely woken the boys. I finished loading the wash into the washer before I went through the kitchen and out into the living room, before going towards the door and looking through the spyhole before I realized who it was and made haste to open it.

"Allie, hey!" I said.

"Hello, darling," Allie said, stepping inside and embracing me, bags of which I assumed were gifts in her arms. "I had a free couple of hours and thought I'd stop by."

"Of course," I said, breaking away from her and hastily shutting the door behind her to ward off the cold. "Let's get that off you," I said, holding out my arms for her jacket and hanging it on one of the many pegs by the door. "Come on in and have a seat. Can I take any of those from you?" I asked as she walked into the living room.

"I'm fine, thank you," Allie said, sitting on the couch as I hovered above her. She set them down around her and smiled up at me. "Great to get out of the cold."

I nodded, automatically wrapping my arms around myself. "For sure," I replied. "Can I get you anything? Something to drink? I usually have a cup of tea right about now..."

"If you were going to make one, I'd love one," Allie said with a smile.

I grinned. "Of course," I replied, making my way into the kitchen, and vaguely heard her following me. When I peered over my shoulder as I filled the tea kettle with water, I noticed she had sat at the kitchen table, and I fixed a smile to my lips and turned off the water, capped the kettle, and placed it on the stove. "How's things at the firm?"

"We miss you terribly," Allie said. "Hugo is just beside himself. He misses your organizational skills, my dear."

I laughed, turning on the stove and shaking my head. "Oh, please. You two founded all of that brickwork, and went to law school long before I did. I'm sure he had some form or other of organizational skills far before I walked onto the scene..."

"He tries," Allie said as I gathered some scones that I'd baked that morning onto a plate and placed them in front of Allie on the table. "Oh, how lovely. What flavor are they?" she wanted to know.

"Buttermilk," I replied. "Just something I came up with during my years without supervision. I love to cook and bake, so Nicholas will always be well-fed."

Allie looked touched at the declaration as she took one onto her plate, breaking it up into bite-sized pieces and popping one into her mouth. "Delicious," she said after swallowing it. "You know, Murphy," she said, taking a napkin from the container at the center of the table and dabbing it at her lips, "when Hugo and I were in our younger years, we would host a charity benefit in the spring at the house. It was a tea party."

"Oh," I said, quickly getting out two cups and putting tea bags into them. "That sounds like it could be a lot of fun."

"Oh, it is. I can't tell you the feelings of positivity come about through the networking aspect that comes about. Anyhow, I've been thinking of starting it up again," she continued. "I would love for you to be a part of it, and to make these delicious scones."

I smiled as the tea kettle boiled, and poured the hot water into the cups. "I'm sure I'd love to be a part of it, Allie," I replied. I set the two cups onto a tray, along with a pitcher of cream and a bowl of sugar, and spoons for each cup, which I promptly brought to the table. "Do you have a set charity, or does it vary every year?"

"It varies—whatever's considered something hot-button. That's what we go for."

I nodded. "Are repeat charities permitted?"

Allie smiled. "Would you want to put on another benefit for Children of the Night, because of Ian's boyfriend, Trevor?"

I shrugged, taking a sip of my tea, and visibly reacting, for I had forgotten to add milk or sugar to it, and hastily did so. "If Trevor was open to it. I'm sure he'd also appreciate it if we extended the invitation to some teens, so that they could get a taste of the high-life. We'd have to explain that the teens wouldn't be made a spectacle of, however, for such a thing would be highly inappropriate and would warrant some letters..."

Allie nodded, taking her offered tea cup. "Well, I'm sure such a thing can be arranged," she replied, adding milk and sugar to her hot drink and stirring it. "If you had things to do today, Murphy, please don't let me keep you..."

"Mostly laundry and watching the boys," I replied, feeling relieved that my tea didn't taste like some far-off dirt. "I was thinking of running to the store later, but I can always go when Ian comes over later with Iana, after picking her up. I wouldn't want the boys to go out into the cold and getting sick..."

Allie immediately shook her head. "I can finish the laundry for you, Murphy, and watch the boys, if you're all right with that," she said with a smile.

I bit my lip, forcing myself to finish my tea in the moments that followed. "I wouldn't want to keep you from firm business..."

My mother-in-law smiled. "Oh, don't worry. I don't have my next case meeting until tomorrow, and I'm all caught up on my notes for it. I wouldn't have anything to do at the office except prepare for the meeting, which I've already mostly done. I have my iPad with me in case there's a case emergency, but there won't be, I assure you."

I sighed—the notion of getting out of the house without any of my children, or Nicholas, seemed almost foreign to me, and I found myself leaping at the opportunity. "Only if you're sure about this, Allie," I said, wanting to give her one more opportunity to get out of it, if that's what she really wanted. "I wouldn't want to take advantage or anything..."

"Sweetheart, you're family—you gave me grandkids, for god sakes," she said with a smile. "I want you to go and do your errands and have a little breathing room. You deserve it. You can't be locked up in the house all day—it's unhealthy."

I smiled. "All right," I said, getting to my feet. I grabbed my phone off the wall charger and made my way towards the front door, where my coat, hat, gloves, and snow boots were kept. "I will have my phone on me in case anything happens..."

"We'll be fine," Allie assured me. "You've showed me where everything is, and I've raised three children. I think I know what I'm doing."

I smiled, stepping into my snow boots and pulling on my coat. "If you're sure..."

"Go on," Allie said with a smile, practically pushing me out the front door. "You go and have a good time, Murphy."

I smiled, waving to her as I did my best not to slip down the stairs, through my yard, out my gate, and towards my car. Fumbling in my pockets, I found my keys and my wallet and unlocked my car quickly, getting inside and locking it up before I stuck my key into the ignition and fired it up, waiting for the heat to kick in before I drove off. As I stuck my hands into my pockets, I felt the envelope of the letter, hastily written the day before, when I'd been stuck for things to do around the house after Nicholas left.

I pulled it out to my pocket, and the front of it still declared that it was to be sent to Mickey Milkovich in Mexico. Due to some sleuthing, I'd somehow managed to find out just where he was living down there, and my intention was to come clean about Iana. Originally, he said that he would likely hear through the grapevine if Iana was his, and if I'd had her. I remembered too clumsily explaining to him that, if I did have it, she would be his by default, because there was no way in hell I would've had Lip's baby. Maybe in some obscure, small-town society, someone in this day and age could knowingly have their siblings' or close relative's child and feel okay about it, but that person wasn't me.

The heat kicked in soon thereafter, and I pocketed the letter again, pulling out of my space in front of my house and down the street. The streets, thankfully, hadn't frozen over, and I was immensely relieved, mostly because I didn't want Nicholas to pull of the heroic husband act and insist upon driving me everywhere somehow. What with his likely hectic schedule at work, I didn't want to impose upon him; I knew full well that spouses were supposedly supposed to lean on one another, but I felt there was a fine line between leaning on and taking advantage of. I knew that Nicholas would do nearly everything I asked, but I didn't want to ask too much and then suddenly be rewarded with a mutual lack of desire to accomplish anything.

I went to the local grocery store, pulling into the snow-filled parking lot and getting out of the car carefully, not wanting to be blind-sided by ice and somehow end up in the ICU with no memory of what had happened. Making my way across the parking lot, I stepped into the store and made a grab for a shopping cart, going down the various aisles. Since a heavier snowstorm had been predicted in the weather forecast for the end of the week, I decided to stock up on a good amount of everything in case something happened further down the line.

I was just getting some meat—some for dinner, some for later in the week, and some that I would ultimately freeze—when I suddenly became aware that I was being watched. I looked up then, and smiled at what I saw, feeling immediately relieved as to who it was and that it definitely wasn't a stalker. "Debs," I said, leaving my cart for a moment and stepping forward, pulling my younger sister into my arms. "Stocking up for the storm?"

"Yep," Debbie replied pulling back. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and I knew it didn't have anything to do with the meat cooling case.

"Did you walk here?"

She shrugged. "Had to."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Why don't we just finish our shopping together, and then I'll give you a ride, okay?" I said.

Debbie nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem," I replied, turning back to my cart and loading more meat into it. "So, what are your plans for the day?"

"Got the day off—hence the grocery shopping," she replied. "Franny's not done with school until after three."

I nodded. "Well, my car is going to be like an ice box anyhow, and Ian's picking up Iana today," I said, mulling it over in my mind as I finished picking out meats and moved to go to the produce section of the store. "Why don't we go for lunch after this?"

Debbie blinked. "You sure?"

"Positive—my treat," I said quickly, flashing her a smile.

She nodded. "Okay... But where are the boys?" she asked, looking around the selected meats in my cart, almost as if they could be hiding.

"Oh, shit, I left them in the car," I said, and Debbie looked horrified. "Kidding. Kidding," I said, this time putting emphasis on the word.

"Okay," she said, obviously relieved. "So, the boys are where...?"

"Allie had some free time today, so she's watching them and finishing my laundry," I replied, finding I didn't mind the arrangement now that I was talking about it.

Debbie looked surprised. "Really?"

I nodded. "Really."

"Did you ask her?"

I shook my head, grabbing a bag of russet potatoes before looking at some greens. "Nope. She just showed up and offered."

"Damn," Debbie said, obviously impressed. "Good on you."

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess."

We continued making small talk as we kept on shopping together, and when we arrived at the check-out, I let Debbie go ahead of me. Once we'd paid and our groceries were bagged, we made our way to my car, where I let Debbie put her groceries in the truck, while I stuffed mine into the back seat of the vehicle. We got into my car together then, and I was relieved when the heat didn't take as long this time, and I drove in the direction of the diner.

"Fiona's place?" Debbie asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I figure it'll be fun to go there together. Besides, I can act as a buffer. The neutral Gallagher sister, if you will."

Debbie smirked, leaning back against the passenger seat. "Things got complicated after I asked for her support about Franny," she admitted.

I nodded. "It's a complex situation, Debs."

Debbie turned to look at me then, and just stared at me for a moment until I pulled to a stop at a traffic light. "Whose side would you have been on?"

I blinked, turning to look at her. "What?"

"If you were here since day one, and I found out I was pregnant, would you have wanted me to keep the baby, or get an abortion?"

I mulled it over in my mind for a moment. "Who was for it?"

"Frank, pretty much immediately, was," Debbie replied. "And Ian and Lip came around pretty quickly, too, because they thought it should've been my decision, not Fiona's."

I sighed, pulling into the intersection as the light changed. "That's a real tough decision, Debs. I mean, I love you, and I love Fi, but I think I would be a completely different person, had I been raised alongside you guys. I mean, who knows? Maybe I would've proven to be a mini version of Fiona..."

"No," Debbie said, cutting across me, her tone thoughtful. "No, you may have gotten the smart gene from me and Lip, but you're like a carbon copy of Ian."

I smiled. "Well, he's my twin, Debs," I replied. "There's bound to be some simulates between the two of us. Hell, we both like fucking dudes," I joked.

"But that still doesn't answer my question," Debbie pressed then as we neared the diner, and I wanted our conversation to be over before we walked through those doors. "Just...tell me. Would you have made me get an abortion?"

"I wouldn't have had custody of you, Debs, and even though I'm older than you, you weren't a total child when this all went down. I couldn't make you do anything."

Debbie pursed her lips. "Say I wasn't your sister," she said as we finally pulled up outside the diner, and I shut off my car. "Would you have advised it?"

I sighed, pulling my key out of the ignition before I turned and looked at her. "I think, knowing you as I do, that, despite your age, you somehow make things work," I said quietly. "And even though a typical girl of your age shouldn't be having sex or keeping their babies, there are exceptions to every rule, and I think you're a rare exception to that rule."

Debbie grinned at me then, launching herself at me and giving me a hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she chanted.

I laughed, taking her hand and moving to get out of my car. "No problem," I replied.

"Hey, what's this?" Debbie asked and, as I turned, I saw that she was holding onto the letter to Mickey, which must've slipped out of my pocket. "Why are you sending a letter to Mickey Milkovich?" she wanted to know.

I lowered my eyes. "It's complicated."

"Is Ian cheating?" Debbie demanded then, her voice like stone.

Immediately, my eyes lock to hers. "What?"

"Is Ian cheating on Trevor?!" she cried out. "Again with fucking Mickey... God, I don't even want to begin to assume what they've managed to do..."

"Ian's not cheating on Trevor, Debs, for Christ's sake!" I cried out then, and Debbie immediately looked relieved and shocked that she had allowed her thoughts to go there. "Besides, that's not Ian's handwriting. It's mine."

Debbie blinked for a moment. "So? You could've written it for him..."

I shook my head, which silenced her. "No. I had to write to him, Debbie. For me."

"Why?" she asked.

I bit my lip. "Because Nicholas wants to adopt Iana," I said quietly.

Debbie's brows knitted together at that. "But why would you write to Mickey about Nicholas's wanting to adopt Iana?"

I sighed, leaning back against my seat. "You're a smart girl, Debs, and you can't even attempt to figure out why?" I asked her.

Debbie lowered her eyes to the letter again. "You didn't...?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's the one thing I wanted to take back. In Mexico, I told you I had a one-night-stand while drunk off my ass in tequila. Well, there you go. Fill in the blank and come up with your own punchline here..."

Debbie's eyes became glued to my face once again and, even though I was staring out of my windshield, I could feel her shock emitting from her very being. "So, you found out who you really were, the night after you fucked Lip, so you drove down to Mexico, and then you ended up fucking Mickey?"

I sighed; I still couldn't look at her. "Yeah, if you want to be that black and white about it. But I didn't even want..." I shook my head. "Bad choice of words. I was so drunk that I didn't even realize what I'd done until after I left the bar. Then I was already on my way back to the border and all I could think about was getting home and telling the truth..."

"And then you found out you were pregnant...?"

"A couple weeks later, yeah," I said quietly. "It was a living hell, waiting for the eight-week mark to do a paternity test. Of course, it could've only been two different guys, and Lip was all too willing to give me some DNA, so by process of elimination..."

"Mickey is Iana's father," Debbie said quietly.

I gave a stiff nod. "Yeah."

"So, Lip knows, obviously..."

"He does."

"And I assume you told Ian..."

"I told him first," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"And Mickey doesn't know?"

I shook my head. "No. He knew about me being pregnant, but he didn't ever know about the DNA test outcome. So, he doesn't know that he has a daughter...who is half-Gallagher...and the niece of the love of his life..."

"Jesus," Debbie whispered. "Who else knows?"

"Um... Frank figured it out pretty much immediately—the whole being pregnant thing and the fact that Mickey was the father," I said quietly. "And then I told Fiona about the one-night-stand the same night I told you all that I was your sister. Once I decided to keep the baby, she agreed to stand by me and to not say anything..."

"Does Liam know?"

I shook my head. "No. Ian and I never discussed it with him, and I think Fiona spoke to Lip about not mentioning it either."

"And...does Trevor...?"

I lowered my eyes. "When I had my momentary lapse in my sanity, I kind of outed myself to Trevor as a horrible human being, and all the baggage that came with it..."

"Fuck," Debbie whispered.

"And then Allie and Hugo know the abridged version, and Nicholas pretty much knows the same version that Ian and Fiona know..."

"The longer version?"

"The uncut version would probably the better term..."

"Which is what?"

I sighed, finally allowing myself to turn and look at her. "That we fucked in the bathroom of a Mexican bar, while so inebriated that none of it seemed to matter anymore. I barely remember that night, Debs, and that's probably a good thing."

Debbie's eyes widened then. "Jesus," she whispered.

I nodded. "No shit," I replied. "Guess I'm not so perfect now, right?"

Debbie shook her head. "You were never perfect, Murphy," she replied simply, "but you are a Gallagher, and we sure as hell aren't perfect, so it makes you fit in just a little bit more into our insane little bunch. It's a good thing, I promise."

I did my best to smile. "Okay, then," I said, opening my car door and getting blasted by the cold air and did a spin around, for the street was covered with ice. "Fuck!" I cried out as Debbie got out and onto the sidewalk. "Now, I need a greasy burger and a milkshake and a slice of pie on the double!" I said, shutting my door and locking my car before I made my way around it and put my arm around Debbie's shoulders. "How about you?"

"You said you were buying, so it sounds good to me!" she replied, as we did our best to navigate ourselves to the front door.

. . .

Even though it was the first Valentine's Day that we were married, I kept telling Nicholas over and over again that I didn't want to do anything special. That meant that going out for a romantic dinner was definitely out, and I certainly didn't want to cook anything either. I just told him that a pizza and romantic comedies and cuddling on the couch would be perfect. However, I was in for quite a surprise after I'd put the kids down for an afternoon nap after Iana got back from preschool. Nicholas said he was going to leave the office early that day, but I didn't want to hold him to anything, and just continued with my usual routine of finding something else to focus my cleaning guru on.

When the mail arrived that afternoon, I kept the baby monitor in my hands as I heard the mail coming in through the slot. Setting it down, I walked towards the front door and gathered it up, knowing that Nicholas may inadvertently step on it coming in from work, or that Iana would think it was something to be cut up for an art project. Shaking my head and grabbing the baby monitor as I walked into the kitchen, I began going through the mail like it was a part of my routine—and, in a way, it was indeed becoming like it. Smirking at myself as I bypassed the bills, knowing that Nicholas would take care of them, I stopped at the final letter, my eyes widening at the claw-like handwriting.

Immediately, I ripped it open, and felt my senses shattering then, my entire resolve going out the window as I read this letter from Mickey. Somehow, some way, Mickey had found out that Iana existed, and that Nicholas was planning on adopting her. As my mind scrolled through the possible suspects of who it could be, I felt the bitter taste of betrayal in my mouth, and wondered who would have done such a thing. Then, I focused on the final sentence, trying to make heads or tails of the eventual outcome this would bring.

 _And, finally, Murphy, I want to let you know that I don't give a shit that Nicholas wants to adopt my kid. Seems like he cleaned up his act, and sounds like a good guy. I mean, who knows, you're the one that married him. All I'm asking for is a picture of my kid. I'm not going to go all weepy on you, I just want to see her._

My head jerked up sharply then as the front door opened, and Nicholas stepped inside in a triumphant manner, showcasing the groceries he had bought, and my mouth would have dropped open at the sight, although I was still numb from reading the letter.

"I am making you dinner tonight, Murphy Gallagher-Blomqvist!" Nicholas declared, a grin on his face at what he was planning on doing.

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"I found a recipe online," he said happily.

"You what?"

Nicholas grinned, obviously very proud of himself. "Mozzarella-stuffed chicken breasts, linguine pasta in a cream sauce, doused with a healthy amount of parmesan cheese, a Caesar salad, and," he said, setting the bags down, before he pulled something out, "Fiona had a chocolate crème pie on reserve for me, and look," he said, tilting it slightly, "I paid extra for them to bake it in a heart-shaped pan!"

I nodded. "Wow," I managed to get out.

"Okay, usually you'd be whooping and hollering at me doing something like this," Nicholas said softly, returning the pie to the bag and staring at me in confusion. "I mean, I think I would classify this as a big romantic gesture..."

I sighed. "Well..."

"Oh!" he said, dipping into another bag and producing a bouquet of a dozen red roses, and a heart-shaped box of chocolates, complete with a red silk bow, which he produced to me with enthusiasm. "Had to put these on reserve weeks ago, but it was worth it!"

I nodded, trying to smile. "That's great. Thank you."

Nicholas lowered his arms then, defeated. "Look, Kev saw me coming inside with all this and he almost took some of it—guess he forgot, and said V was going to rip him a new one, but I got out before he could do anything..."

I bit the inside of my cheeks then in an effort to distract myself. "Sounds reasonable..."

"Murph," he said, and something in his voice made me look up at him. "You okay? You're not like yourself..."

"Did you tell anyone?" I whispered.

"Tell anyone what?"

"About Iana being Mickey's kid..."

Immediately, Nicholas shook his head. "No. I mean, my parents knew, but they don't like to talk about other people, especially their families, without permission..."

Promptly, I shove the letter at Nicholas, who puts the flowers and chocolates down onto the kitchen table behind me, and takes it. "Must've been my side of the family, then," I said, my voice full of bitterness as I crossed my arms. "We may be South Side trash, but I guess fucking family loyalty doesn't run as deep as I thought..."

Nicholas looked at the letter then, skimming it quickly before looking up at me. "Holy shit," he whispered, his voice full of shock.

I nodded. "Yeah. And now I have to figure out who ratted me out, and when I do, there's going to be hell to pay," I said, my voice a hiss.


	11. Don't Ask For The Moon

Chapter Eleven: Don't Ask For The Moon

The notion that someone in my life did not have my best interests at heart was honestly and truly discouraging, and I knew that, if it came down to it, I would fight to uncover the truth. It was after I got the letter from Mickey that I resolved to take the letter I'd intended to send to him, edit it, and then send it, as I should have done all along. I was shocked when, however, I began to search for it, that I couldn't find it anywhere, and when I asked Nicholas about it, my husband assured me that he hadn't seen it. Given that Debbie had given it back to me, I found I couldn't think of anyone else who knew about its existence, so, as the month continued on, and I did my best to focus on Iana, the boys, and my marriage, that I felt at ease with returning to the firm and my job, relieved that I had that option.

When the day arrived for me to return to work, I took Iana to preschool and the boys to daycare as scheduled, and Rebecca was very excited to finally meet the boys face to face. Clayton and Fionn were perfectly all right, it seemed, to be left in her care, and as I walked out, holding tightly to Iana's hand, I didn't feel as nervous as I'd done when I'd brought her to daycare for the first time. I supposed then that what they said about second and third kids was true—you let go a little bit earlier, and learned to trust the people around you.

"Okay, Mama?" Iana asked as we walked to the car.

I smiled, unlocking it automatically and making sure that she was secured properly into her booster seat. "Yeah, of course, honey," I replied.

"Preschool?"

I laughed then, kissing her forehead. "Yes, preschool for you, the firm for Mama."

Iana nodded. "Good," she said quietly.

Once I'd dropped off my daughter at preschool, I drove directly to the firm and remained in my parking space for a good few minutes. I knew that nobody at work could've gotten ahold of my letter, and I knew that I had to breathe easy for a while, and to gather some hard evidence before I went around accusing people. Resolving that no evidence was in place, I grabbed my bag and got out of the car, making my way towards the elevators and pressing the button. When the box finally arrived, I rode it up to the correct floor, relieved to see that no fanfare awaited me as I stepped out and into the lobby.

"Hey, Rachel," I said, spotting her as I stepped into the assistants' area. "And how are things this lovely spring morning?"

Rachel smiled, handing over my messages. "They're doing well, thanks, Murphy. Glad to be back?"

I smiled, sifting through my messages. "Yeah, I think so."

"Allie and Hugo have requested to see you at some point in the conference room with your new husband at eleven," Rachel said and, when I looked up at her, I saw that she was bringing her eyebrows up and down in a dramatic fashion.

I rolled my eyes. "Real classy, Rachel," I said, but grinned at her as I walked away from her desk and towards my office. I let myself in and shut the door behind me, turning on the light and setting down my things before circling the desk. I ran my hands over the cherry wood and switched on my computer, waiting for the thing to boot up and, once it did, the machine informed me that I had an email from Nicholas.

 _I thought I heard my wife arrive at the office_. _Can you confirm or deny this_?

I smirked then, quickly typing up a response. _I may have heard something along those lines_ , _Mr_. _Blomqvist_. _Would you like me to pass along a message to her_?

It wasn't two minutes later when Nicholas responded back to me. _Will you let her know that I am on my way to see her_?

 _I can do that_ , _yes_ , I quickly wrote back.

I heard his footsteps in the hallway then, and I quickly got to my feet as he opened the door and stepped inside. I ran over to him as he shut the door behind me, letting out that godforsaken giggle he somehow managed to always get out of me as I threw my arms around his. My lips quickly managed to find his as his arms went around my waist, holding me against him as our heartbeats thundered in our ears.

"Boys get to daycare today?" he asked, attempting to hike up my skirt.

"Yes," I breathed, fumbling in his pocket and finding a condom.

"And Iana settled in at preschool?"

"She did," I whispered, letting out another giggle then as I unzipped his pants, and as Nicholas locked the door behind him. I outfitted him with the condom quickly as he lifted me by my waist, and I wrapped my legs around his torso then, feeling my eyes rolling back into my head as he entered me then. "Fuck..." I whispered, bracing myself against his shoulders.

Nicholas sucked a fair amount of air through his teeth, his eyes locking with mine. "Dammit, Murph... What are you doing to me?"

I smiled down at him. "What do you think?" I asked him. "It's...shit," I whispered as he moved deliciously inside me. "...what we do best, isn't it?"

Nicholas grinned. "You really think that the best thing we do is fucking?"

I shrugged, returning his grin as I attempted not to scream at all the things happening to me and within me. "That... Although the boys are really beautiful," I say, letting out a shocked shout as he slams me up against the wall, digging deeper inside me.

"We do make beautiful babies, don't we?" my husband asked.

 _Husband_. _He was_ my _husband_. "Yeah, we do," I said, trying to keep my voice quiet, so as nobody else in the firm could hear us. "Beautiful..."

"Ever think we could make some more?" he joked.

I laughed aloud then as he slammed even deeper inside me, and I bent my neck down to muffle my cries into his shoulder. "Fuck me," I whispered, shuddering all over.

Nicholas gently lowered me down then, permitting me to lean into him as I got my footing again, before I crossed the room and grabbed my panties, which Nicholas had thrown across the room in a fit of impatience. "You didn't answer my question, Murph."

I blinked, my cheeks flushed as I bent to pick up my panties, and quickly stepped into them. "Oh, do tell me, sir," I replied, adjusting my skirt. "What question is that?"

"Do you want to have another baby?"

I scoffed then, but was surprised when I got a good look at Nicholas's expression. "You're not actually being serious right now?"

He shrugged. "What if I am?"

I shook my head at him, floundering. "The boys aren't even two months old yet, and Iana turns three in May," I said.

He nodded. "I'm well-aware of how old our children are, Murphy."

I sighed, deciding to ignore the fact that he'd grouped them all under the category of "our children" as I leaned up against my desk. "Nicholas, if I'm being honest with you, I wasn't even sure that I wanted more kids after Iana," I said, remembering my revelation to Ian about the possibility of me being pregnant a second time.

"But you did," Nicholas said, stepping towards me. "You did, and they were beautiful. Just imagine what our other kids would look like..."

"Maybe," I said, untangling my fingers from his. "Maybe in a few years, when Iana and the boys are older. I don't want to have one kid a year, or every two years, Nicholas."

My husband blinked. "Why?" he asked.

"Why?" I said, scoffing to myself as I crossed my arms, quickly growing annoyed. "I don't know. Maybe because both of my pregnancies were unplanned... And then there's the notion that I have a career to think about. And then there's our marriage—maybe we couldn't make it work with more than three kids. I mean, your family had three kids, and the three of you turned out pretty amazing."

Nicholas nodded. "Yeah, but your family had seven."

I sighed. "Yeah, and each of us are struggling in our own ways," I said, spreading my hands. "I mean, each of us had pretty severe problems, and the notion that even though I wasn't raised beside them all, doesn't mean that I had it any better. You know how fucked up my circumstances were, Nicholas, and I don't know if I could handle another child, or at least consider it, so quickly..."

Nicholas nodded. "I can see that. We both had severe problems in our lives, Murph, but we each managed to overcome them."

"Through hard work, and sacrifices," I replied. "I mean, who knows? Maybe if I'd have been brave enough, I would've stayed with Jessica, and then maybe I would have broken away from my family sooner, and never figured out who I was..."

He mulled that over for a moment. "Do you think your life could've been better?" he asked, and I was surprised at how genuinely curious and unhurt he sounded. "Do you think your life could've been better, had you stayed with Jessica?"

I shrugged. "I'll never know, will I?" I asked, stepping closer to him and putting my arms around his neck. "But I still wouldn't change how things turned out. I'm pretty happy the way things are right about now..."

Nicholas thought about that for a moment before he was grinning down at me again. "Aside from the office fucking?"

I rolled my eyes before standing on my toes and kissing him. "Oh, yes, yes, yes. Aside from the office fucking," I replied.

. . .

I was pleased for the staples of Sunday dinners that Ian had decided to arrange, just so we could take the day, in the final hours of a weekend, to come together as a family and catch up. Of course, now that Clayton and Fionn had joined the mix, I realized that my sons seemed to hog the spotlight quite a bit, but everyone assured me that it wasn't considered a negative thing. I knew enough from experience that babies were seen as a wonderful thing—a beginning of a new life—and should be loved and spoiled at all costs.

One Sunday, at the end of April, I was washing dishes with Ian in the kitchen, just like old times, and it was an altogether pleasant experience. Nicholas had gone home with Iana and the boys to put them to bed, and I said I'd be along shortly so as not to miss out on some solo time with my husband. Ian washed and I dried the dishes, and we didn't even have to talk the whole time—we were that comfortable with one another.

"So...married life," Ian said, bumping into my arm with his.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I'm very married."

"What's that like?"

I smiled, taking a plate he'd just finished washing and drying it with a towel. "I guess it's great in that there's so much more compassion and understanding between us. And then there's his level of consideration, which is just off the charts..."

"Really?" Ian asked. "How?"

"Well, he did let us move across the street, just because I asked," I said, flashing him a grin as I finished drying the plate. "He could've easily voted and insisted on a more expensive or a safer neighborhood, but my insisting really paid off."

Ian nodded. "Yeah, I can see that... And you guys are happy?"

I took another plate from Ian and rubbed the towel along its surface. "Yeah, we're happy. I didn't know that marriage and kids would be in the cards for me. I guess with breaking away from Tina and Dr. Normal, it opened my eyes to a whole new world of experiences that I didn't think were even possible..."

"He's not such a bad guy. Nicholas, I mean."

I nodded. "You're right. He's not such a bad guy. I'm just glad that you came around in time to give me away at my wedding," I said, trying my best not to tear up. "That was one of the happiest days of my life, and I am eternally grateful that you were willing to stand by me like that and doing me that honor."

Ian smiled, touching his head to mine for a moment before handing me a cup for me to dry. "God knows Frank doing that would've been inappropriate..."

I scoffed, drying the inside of the cup as I kept a steady grip upon it. "No shit," I replied. "You see the son of a bitch lately?"

"Here and there. He's always around."

I nodded. "Saw him over the back fence yesterday..."

"Yeah?" Ian asked, his hands shaking automatically then as he attempted to keep a good grip on another plate he was washing. "What happened?"

I scoffed, waiting for him to finish washing the plate before I grabbed it, drying it quickly before washing my hands, and waiting for him to wash his, before I led him to the table. "Sit. Come on, Ian. Breathe," I said, my voice calm.

Ian nodded, breathing deeply for a moment before his eyes locked to mine. "What the hell was Frank doing on the other side of the fence?"

I sighed. "He wanted to see the boys."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Of course he fucking did."

"I told him to get the fuck off our property, of course, but he insisted, so I got out our baseball bat and he was running for the hills," I reported.

Ian nodded, looking visibly relieved at my report. "Good," he said. "I always think about getting a restraining order or something against him..."

I nodded back at him. "Why don't you?"

"Because it's fucking Frank," he replied, dragging a hand through his hair. "It wouldn't do any good because he lives by no rules but his own."

I bent my head then, so that I was cradling it in the palms of my hands. "I really wish I could've been here with you guys," I said softly, for what must've been the umpteenth time since I'd found out who I really was. "I could've helped—gotten a job or some other worthy shit—and just got a seventh of the abuse he aimed at all of you..."

Ian smiled. "It would've been more fun..."

I smirked at him. "Yeah? Why?"

"Well, you're one of the only ones that Fiona listens to..."

I rolled my eyes. "That's because of my big fancy degree and my big fancy job and my big fancy car," I joked, and Ian laughs. "Part of me thinks that if I had been raised here then I might not have done so well academically..."

"Why? Because we live in a ghetto?" Ian asked.

I shook my head. "No. Because I would've drank much sooner, and god knows what happened to me when I was on it for five fucking minutes," I replied. "I fucked my brother and I fucked Mickey, and those are two things I can never take back..."

"Hey, it's okay," Ian said gently.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "I know you saying it's okay should make it okay, Ian, but it doesn't—not for me. They both make me equally sick for entirely different reasons, partly because I can never take them back, but also because I hurt a handful of people based on thoughtless actions..."

Ian nodded, allowing that. "And then there's the notion that you were in my head since the beginning..."

I smirked. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that I wouldn't have had to tell you about Kash or Mickey or about anything like that, because you would've figured it out and confronted me."

I grinned, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms. "You know I would've. I think I would have been worried about both of those relationships. Not just because of your age but because of the implications of power..."

Ian nodded. "I can respect that... Do you think you would've been as wild and crazy as Fiona was in your teen years?"

I laughed aloud at that. "If this is any indication as to what I would've been in my teen years, now that you all know me in my twenties, then yeah, I think it's safe to say that I'd be pretty boy crazy, because sex is amazing," I said, trying not to laugh too loudly. "I would like to know what it would've been like, growing up with a sister instead of controlling adoptive parents who never wanted me around in the first place, but we've got the best of both worlds now."

"Really?" Ian asked. "How?"

I reach out and take ahold of his hand. "We've got the best of both worlds because we're both in our twenties and, unless one of us gets arrested for some reason, we're always going to be in each other's lives," I tell him. "Now social services can't step in and separate all of us, and now that I've found you all, I'd never trade you for anything."

Ian smiled. "I wouldn't trade you for anything either, Murph."

There were footfalls on the stairs then, and I suddenly remembered that Debbie and Franny were upstairs, collecting a few things before heading back to Debbie's place for the night. "Hey," she said, her voice quiet as she juggled a sleeping Franny and a bag of old clothes. "One of you still good to give me a ride?"

"I've got it," I said, getting to my feet and hugging Ian. I held up my keys then and Debbie grinned, hugging Ian goodnight as I texted Nicholas, letting him know that I'd probably be home in half an hour or so. "Ready?"

Debbie sighed, shifting Franny in her arms. "She doesn't have school tomorrow," she said in a quiet voice, "so maybe..."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Go put her to bed upstairs," he said. "You can leave after breakfast tomorrow morning, okay?"

Debbie nodded, still unsure. "Okay..."

"I'll put her to bed," Ian said then, stepping forward and taking Franny, and disappeared up the stairs with her.

"Well, if you don't need a ride," I said, taking out my phone again, "I should probably go home and get back to my husband..."

"Can we talk, Murph?"

I raised my eyes to my younger sister then, and something behind her eyes told me that I should probably accept. "Sure," I said, putting an arm around her shoulders and walking with her into the living room. We sat on the couch, and while I faced her, Debbie kept her eyes lowered, and it was almost as if she was ashamed of something. "What's on your mind, Debs?"

She sighed. "You could never hate me, right?"

I shook my head. "Hate you? I don't know what you mean."

Debbie bit her lip then. "I've done some things in my life I'm not proud of..."

I smiled, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. "It can't be that bad, Debs. Remember, I fucked Lip once upon a time, and Mickey is Iana's biological father. Trust me, what you've done can't have been that bad."

"I lied to Franny's birth father..."

I blinked. "What about?"

"About being on the pill," she said quietly. "He had a condom out and everything, but I said that I was on the pill, and that we didn't need it, so he didn't use it, and I got pregnant..."

I nodded. "Debs, you were young—so young—and maybe it wasn't the right thing to do at the time, sure, but Franny is amazing. You wouldn't want to take her back, would you?"

"This late in the game?" Debbie asked.

I smiled. "Yeah. This late in the game."

She shook her head. "No, I wouldn't want to take her back."

I smiled then in slight surprise as she leaned in and rested her head down on my shoulder. "You know, in the beginning, when I found out I was pregnant, I was so nervous at what the eventual outcome of the DNA test would be," I said quietly.

"Before you knew if Lip or Mickey was the father?"

I nodded. "Yeah. All I could think was, 'If it's Lip's baby, I need to get an abortion, but if it's Mickey's baby, I need Ian's blessing to keep it'..."

Debbie looked up at me then. "Would you have kept Iana, if she was Mickey's, even if Ian told you that he wasn't okay with it?" she asked.

I sighed. "Honestly? Yes," I replied. "For so long, I thought that having children was impossible, and I felt like I'd been given a gift, in a way. So, when I told Ian I was pregnant, I also said that, if it was Mickey's, that I was keeping it."

Debbie's eyes widened. "You actually said that?"

I shook my head. "No. Turned out, I didn't have to."

"Ian just knew?"

"He assumed," I replied, "and boy, was the entire conversation a devastating one for him. I told him that, if it turned out that Mickey was the father, if he was against it, then I would leave and find somewhere else to live, and just disappear."

"Disappear? As in, you wouldn't see us—any of us—anymore?"

I nodded. "Yeah. All I wanted to do was assuage the tension, and I would have promised Ian anything at that point. But when I mentioned leaving, he panicked and made the sacrifice so that I would stay."

"He couldn't lose you," Debbie guessed.

I shook my head. "No, he couldn't. And I couldn't lose him, but I felt a bond with the baby from the moment my doctor told me I was pregnant. Of course, I had to keep locking it down, because the father was unknown, but I figured it out..." I hesitated for a moment then, staring at my younger sister, and needed to know, once and for all, what she was holding back. "Debs, why would you ask me if I could ever hate you?"

She lowered her eyes. "It's about Mickey."

 _Shit_ , I thought to myself. _Jesus_ , _Debs_ , my mind whispered, _don_ ' _t let it be you_... "Okay," I said, attempting to keep my tone under control. "Tell me."

She bit her lip—she was obviously hiding something, and wanted more than anything to spit it out, literally. "I took the letter, Murphy..."

I felt something shift inside me then, and the bitterness of betrayal entered my mouth, the acidity of its taste burning my tongue and throat. "You took the letter?"

She nodded. "I took it."

"Okay," I said, again trying to keep my voice under control, not wanting to lose my shit without all the evidence, or Ian and Franny upstairs. "Why?"

Debbie shoulders slumped then. "Because I wanted to send it..."

I shook my head. "It wasn't your letter to send, Debs. Why the fuck would you do that to me?!" I cried out then, losing control, and quickly.

Debbie's eyes immediately locked to mine then. "I said I _wanted_ to send it, Murph, not that I ended up sending it. I didn't send it."

I blinked then, knowing that I had to backpedal, and fast. "Okay... Do you still have it?" I asked, mentally crossing my fingers.

Debbie shook her head. "No, I don't have it."

"Okay," I said, gritting my teeth and swearing every name I knew in my mind. I took a deep breath then, knowing I had to keep my cool. "Do you know what happened to it?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Someone took it."

I nodded back at her. "Okay," I said. "Who took it?"

Debbie opened her mouth then, and her dark eyes told a story. "I don't want to assume, but I think it was—"

"Sorry it took so long," Ian said, heading downstairs with a smile on his face. "Franny woke up and wanted a bedtime story, so I had to find some in Liam's old books." Our brother stood there with a smiled on his face, before he was able to sense the tension in the air. "What's going on down here?" he asked. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," I said, sounding quite unlike myself as I searched Debbie's face for answers and, finding none, got to my feet. "Nicholas and I have an early day tomorrow, so I should probably get back across the street..."

"Goodnight, then!" Debbie said, her voice unnaturally loud as she made for the staircase, pushing past Ian and vanishing around the corner.

I gave Ian a tight smile then, making my way to the pegs on the wall and grabbing my leather jacket, something I hadn't worn in a million years. I turned around then, spotting Ian as I pulled it on quickly, attempting to smile at him. "See you soon, I guess..."

"Hey," Ian said, placing a hand on my arm as I moved to open the door, and I looked over my shoulder, my eyes locking with his. "Everything okay?"

I once again tried to plaster a smile on m face, and failed miserably. "Yeah, sure," I said, and leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Everything is fantastic," I said, attempting to keep my voice from shaking then as I stepped outside and down the stairs.

I didn't look back once as I stepped out of the gate, shutting it behind me and crossing the street towards my house. I walked through the gate and into the yard, unlocking my front door and, finally, turning around, seeing Ian still in the doorway. I didn't lift my hand and wave to him as I stepped inside and shut my door behind me, locking it. It was only when I was faced with the warmth of my house that I realized that icy tears had formed in my eyes and had made their way down my cheeks.

I didn't want to believe it, but I couldn't help but wonder if my suspicions were true, and Debbie's mannerisms at the end there hadn't helped matters. Mechanically, I took off my jacket and hung it on the peg before I removed my ankle boots, keeping a good grip on them as I stood there for a moment. Like I'd said, the fact that I didn't want to believe it was immaterial, but the notion that Ian could've betrayed me cut me like a knife, and the notion that my own twin, after so long, would turn completely against me was a shocker. Dashing the tears from my eyes, I knew I had to keep my mouth shut, and resolved to do so as I climbed the stairs. I would keep silent about my suspicions, but knew that, deep down, if and when I found the evidence pointing to Ian, there was no telling whether or not I could hold back my wrath.

TO BE CONTINUED


	12. Nail-Her-And-Jail-Her

Chapter Twelve: Nail-Her-And-Jail-Her

Of course I didn't want to believe that Ian would go behind my back and contact Mickey without my permission. However, given their history—and given that Ian had run off with him while dating Trevor—I could understand his desire to keep in touch. It didn't excuse the fact that he was now officially a suspect in revealing Iana's identity to Mickey and, no matter what their relationship status, I knew I needed to get to the bottom of whatever had happened. Like it or not, I knew Ian was a likely culprit, and Mickey wasn't likely to give him up, as it seemed that Mickey only had my letter, so it was logical that Mickey would think that I was reaching out to him after all this time.

"Order up!"

At the sound of the bell ringing, I immediately come out of my fog and turn around, gathering up the orders and going around the counter, bringing them to the table. "Can I get you anything else for the moment?" I asked, grinning at the customers and hoping that I didn't resemble a gargoyle in that moment.

The woman smiled up at me; she seemed to be sitting with her son. "No, we're fine, thank you," she replied.

I nodded. "Enjoy your food," I said, turning away from the table and attempting to yank down the short-shorts of the uniform. Fiona had assured me that I still had the legs for it, and even though I'd gone down to a size above my size before I got pregnant with the boys, I was still feeling self-conscious. When the door opened to the restaurant, I immediately gravitated towards it and made a grab for a stack of menus. "Hi, welcome to Patsy's," I said, grinning at the people who had just walked in. "Would you like to sit at the counter or in a booth?" I sat the couple who had just walked in at the booth they'd requested, by the window, which was a very popular spot for people just passing through town. "We have a delectable avocado toast burger, which is served with truffles," I said, not knowing where Fiona's chef came up with these meals, but if it kept the restaurant in in business, I was all for it.

The man at the table looked up at me then, and there was a hint of recognition behind his eyes as he regarded me then. "Do I know you?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Not that I'm aware of, sir."

He took a look at my nametag, which Fiona had had made for me on the off-chance that she would ask for me to fill in if a waitress called out sick. "Murphy... That your real name?" he wanted to know.

I scoffed. "It's the name I was born with," I replied, trying to keep my cool. "Not like it's an alias or anything..."

He nodded. "Fiona here?"

I shook my head. "No. She'll be in later for the closing shift. She's over at her apartment complex right now," I said brightly.

His girlfriend or whoever it was he was with didn't seem too interested in our conversation, and yet this man seemed keen to know more about Fiona. "You from around here?"

 _Or maybe it was me_...

"I was born here, and I've lived here since I was twenty-one."

"Pretty big age gap."

I shrugged. "Well, I was adopted. Then, after I graduated college, I moved here for my job and the rest is history."

"Snag a sugar daddy after majoring in restaurant management?" he asked. "Something tells me that the career-side of the dream didn't pan out..."

I blinked, deciding to ignore it. "What can I get you?"

"Two specials," he said, answering for the woman who was with him, and took her menu away from her before he handed them over to me. "With iced water, a coffee for me, and an iced tea for my friend."

I grabbed the menus back from him, quickly scrawling down the information. "You got it," I replied, wanting more than anything to get away from him, and feeling my skin crawling as I stepped past the main door and back behind the counter. "I've got two specials!" I called back to the chef, who saluted me, and I turned around to get the drinks ready.

Not only was Fiona not there that day, but Lip was also at his second job as well. With Ian and Debbie working, and Carl only coming home for a few weeks over the summer before he shipped out—and Liam in school for another month—I didn't have anyone to talk to. Nicholas was knee-deep into his latest case, and Kev and V were busy at the Alibi that day, and, of course, my children were too young to be productive in a work setting.

I brought over the drinks to the table a few moments later, doing my best to plaster a smile onto my face again. "Here are your ice waters, your coffee, and your iced tea," I said, placing each drink in front of the correct person.

The man smirked. "Well, it seems like whoever got you that rock is pulling in the big bucks, and now you're just waiting tables..."

I tried my best to keep my temper with him as I straightened up, tucking the drink tray under my arm. "I'll have you know that I'm a lawyer at Blomqvist and Torrance," I replied.

"So, who'd you marry?" he asks. "A Blomqvist or a Torrance?"

I feel my cheeks flame. "I hardly think who I'm married to is any of your business," I fired back at him, turning around and heading back towards another table. I went back towards the one of the mother and son, and smiled at them both. "How is everything?"

"Delicious," the mother said. "We're actually thinking of pie... Which kind do you recommend personally?" she asked.

I smiled at her. "Fruit or non-fruit?"

"Either."

"I like the marionberry or the chocolate crème," I replied.

The mother nodded. "Sounds great. We'll take a slice of each."

I smiled, turning up the tray and gathering their dishes onto it. "Sounds great. I'll be right back with those for you. Would you like ice cream on the marionberry slice?"

"Please," the woman said.

I gave a nod to her, bringing the tray of dirty dishes back into the kitchen and disposing of them as I returned to the case behind the counter. I got out two plates and cut thick slices of pie and put them onto the plates, before getting some ice cream out of the back and placing it onto the plate beside the slice of marionberry. I returned to the table with the mother and son, placing each slice in the center of the table. "Enjoy," I said.

"Thank you," the mother replied.

"Order up!"

I turned back towards the kitchen, seeing that my two specials had been made ready, and I promptly brought them to the table. "Here you are," I said.

"I'm sorry," the man said, and I raised my eyebrows, "but you just look so familiar to me. Are you sure we've never met?"

I gave a stiff nod. "I think I'd remember someone like you."

He scoffed. "Someone like me," he said, trying not to laugh. "Well, if you're a lawyer, what are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "Families do favors for one another."

The man looked around. "You know one of the waitresses or something?"

"The owner," I replied.

His eyes widened then. "Whoa, wait. You're a member of Fiona's family?"

I scoffed. "Uh, yeah. Last time I checked."

He shook his head at me. "I didn't meet you before... Are you her cousin or something? Because that would make more sense..."

I shook my head at him, seeing that his girlfriend or whoever had begun eating her special, and seemed to be enjoying it, before I turned back to him. "No, I'm not Fiona's cousin or something, sir. I'm her sister."

"But you don't look a thing like Debbie..."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not Debbie—I'm Murphy Gallagher-Blomqvist."

"Ah-ha! So you _did_ marry one of them!"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I did. Yay," I said, my tone sarcastic.

"But are you being serious? _You_ ' _re_ Fiona's sister, too?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm Ian's twin," I replied, and the man looked as if he could pass out at the information. "I was given up for adoption at birth, and adopted when I was really young, and was raised in Seattle, before I moved back here when I was twenty-one, which is when I managed to find my birth family..." I hesitated for a moment, taking in the man—he had pale blue eyes and floppy, dark brown hair, and a healthy amount of facial hair; he was handsome enough, but the way he was looking at me was enough to unnerve me. "And you are?"

"Jimmy," he said, and my mind immediately snapped to the lecture I'd gotten on all of Fiona's ex-boyfriends, and the guy had the nerve to put out his hand. "Jimmy Lishman—maybe Fiona or one of the kids mentioned me."

My eyes widened then before I could attempted to control my face. "Yeah, they mentioned you all right," I said, thankful that I didn't freak out completely. "I'll leave you to enjoy your meal now," I went on, doing my best to keep on smiling as I walked past another waitress. "Taking a break—watch my tables," I said, doing my best to keep my voice firm. I guessed then that a perk of having your sister as the owner of the place is that you're automatically in charge when she's not around. I made my way back into the office, letting myself in and shutting the door behind me, sitting in the chair and immediately pulling out my phone. Fingers shaking, I pressed the number three and waited.

"Place burn down yet?" Fiona joked when she picked up.

"Not funny—burn victim, remember?"

"Shit," Fiona replied. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," I replied. "But I think you'll want to get over here right now..."

"Why?" she asked. "Something wrong?"

I scoffed into the phone. "Jimmy Lishman showing up something wrong?" I asked.

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. "You better not be shitting me right now, Murphy, because I swear to god..."

"Not shitting you," I replied. "He's here. Took his order and everything."

"Round up the troops," she said. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Can do," I replied, hanging up the phone. I got a group text together—Lip, Ian, Debbie, Carl, Liam, Kev, and V—and typed furiously into my phone.

 _Jimmy Lishman at the diner as we speak_ , _calling reinforcements_. _If you are in the area and available_ , _please show up at Patsy_ ' _s Pies immediately to defend Fiona_ ' _s honor_.

I got various replies then, and everyone but Carl and Liam was available to show up. Carl had to be on his best behavior and not run out of the military academy so close to his shipping out date, which I could understand. And with only a month of school left, Liam would likely have exams coming up, and would need to keep his butt in the classroom.

I got to my feet a few moments later, going to the back door and letting everyone in, patting them on the back like a coach would as they walked by. The waited in the employee locker area for their next move, and I waited by the back door, phone in hand, for Fiona to arrive. When she did, I let her in and, to my shock, pulled me into a fierce hug, fiercer than I'd ever felt in my entire life of being an official Gallagher.

"Fi?" I asked, my tone filled with surprise.

"Thank you," she said.

I blinked, managing to pull my arms up and to pull her closer to me. "You're welcome," I said, my tone still shocked.

She pulled back then, cupping my face in both her hands. "If he doesn't want to get out of my life once and for all by listening to me, maybe he'll listen to all of us..." She started to walk out of the room then, before she turned back. "You told him you were a Gallagher, right?"

I grinned. "Would you have had me tell him otherwise?"

Fiona grinned at me and shook her head. "Fuck no," she replied. She put her arm around my shoulders then and together we walked into the employee locker area. "Gallagher's—and Kev and V," she added quickly, and both of them bowed their heads, "we are here today to once and for all obliterate the liar, hereby known as Jimmy Lishman, from our lives for all eternity. I've tried not contacting him, and I may have slipped last time he came to town..."

"No shit," Lip muttered, crossing his arms.

"We could've told you that," Ian said quietly.

"I thought ever since I told you who he really was that you wouldn't want anything to do with him ever again," Debbie said, her tone annoyed.

"Anyhow," Fiona went on, "I hope that now we can come together and really let him know what happens when the Gallagher family is messed with. Now, who's with me?"

"Let's just do it, Fiona," Kev said. "Some of us have to work for a living."

"Okay," Fiona said, grabbing Lip and putting her arm around him, and I did the same with Ian, and Ian did it to Debbie, who did it to V, who did it to Kev, and we all managed to somehow walk sideways until we were in the restaurant itself. "Where is he?" Fiona whispered to me, trying to keep her cool.

"Table by the window," I whispered back.

"Creature of habit, that son of a bitch is," she muttered. She walked us all over to the table then, letting us go just before we got there so as we could swarm around her like a hive of bees, and she stood there, arms crossed, before the table. "Hello, Jimmy." Her voice was flat, emotionless, and I knew she must've rehearsed this in front of the mirror, one or twice, give or take a few dozen, times.

Jimmy immediately got to his feet, his expression radiating shock, but Lip, Ian, and Kev came around Fiona immediately, in case he got too close. "Hey," he said, obviously surprised that she was there, and even talking to him. "You look good."

Fiona crossed her arms. "Enough with the small talk, Jimmy. What the hell are you doing back here after last time? I told you we were done."

Jimmy floundered for a moment, lowering his eyes to Fiona's hand and looked relieved. "I see you're not wearing that ring..."

Fiona covered her hand, looking uneasy. "Not that it's any of your business, but Gus and I divorced a while ago."

"Really?" Jimmy asked.

"That doesn't mean she's going drop everything to be with you, man," Kev said, his tough guy persona all out in front.

"She's not going to make the same mistake twice," Lip put in.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jimmy asked, ignoring Kev and Lip's statements. "Why didn't you tell me you got divorced?"

Fiona gritted her teeth. "Like I said, it wasn't any of your business, Jimmy."

Jimmy dragged one of his hands through his hair. "No, I know that... Dammit, I need to wrap my head around this," he said, his eyes locking onto me. "All of this."

"What's your problem?!" Ian demanded, automatically gravitating towards me. "Murphy is fucking married, and she's off-limits!"

I placed my hand on Ian's chest. "It's okay, Ian..."

"No, it's not fucking okay," Ian said, blocking Fiona and me from Jimmy's path and glaring at him, full of rage. "What the hell did you come here for, Jimmy? Are you going to spell it out for us, before you fucking disappear again?"

"Are you here to tell us that your name isn't Jimmy or Steve?" Debbie demanded sourly, and I automatically put my arm around her shoulders.

"No, my name really is Jimmy Lishman," he said, obviously hurt that he had let so many things go unsaid for so long, before his eyes gravitated towards Fiona again. "I wanted to say that I got med school."

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Good for you, Jimmy. And I see that you've moved on to someone very appropriate-looking for a doctor's wife," she said, her tone bitter as she took in the woman who was sitting at Jimmy's table.

The woman Jimmy had been sitting with lowered her chin towards Fiona, the terms austere and superior immediately coming to mind. "Actually, I'm James's therapist," she said, her tone haughty as she regarded Fiona then. "I told him that it would be beneficial towards his treatment if he were to make amends to you."

Fiona blinked. "Make amends?" she asked, obviously trying not to laugh as she turned to look back at Jimmy. "What the hell is going on here?"

"I have to apologize to you to move on to the next phase of my life," Jimmy replied simply. "I wanted you to know that I've accepted a position at Mercy Hospital, so I'm back in Chicago full-time, and I wanted to let you know so you won't grab the baseball bat anytime soon."

Fiona made a face. "Why didn't you get a job in Ann Arbor?"

He shrugged. "Wanted a change of scenery. Besides, my parents still live around here, so there's that to consider..."

Immediately, Ian looked uncomfortable, looking at the floor of the diner.

"Besides, I just wanted you to know that I'm going to be around—for consideration purposes, and for the future," he went on, trying to formulate his sentences in a reasonable matter.

"God, I can't believe this," Ian said, moving away from our crowd and out the door of the restaurant, walking down the street.

"Ian?" Lip asked, moving to go after him.

"No, Lip, I'll go," I said, placing my hand on his shoulder, before running outside after Ian, who was walking at a steady clip, hands in his pockets. "Going somewhere?" I called after him.

Ian stopped walking, looking over his shoulder at me. "You should go back in there, Murph. I'm pretty sure you're still on the clock."

"I don't give a shit about that," I replied, rushing forward. "You got all uncomfortable when Jimmy mentioned his parents. Why is that?"

Ian sighed, dragging his hands through his hair. "I was fucking Jimmy's dad before I became official with Mickey," he replied.

I raised my eyebrows. "Wow."

Ian rolled his eyes. "What?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. I just thought it was Kash when it came to fucking older guys. I didn't realize that, other than Mickey, you did a lot back then..."

Ian shrugged. "He was fun. Got me into clubs, bought me shit..."

I scoffed then, crossing my arms as we mutually looked back at the restaurant, where we could see Fiona still arguing with Jimmy. I could've asked him, then, if he was the one to rat me out to Mickey, but now was not the time. "Personally, I think it'd be better to fuck someone my own age, if I'm being honest," I said. "Then again, I've only really fucked guys—and Jessica—and they've all been around my age..."

"It wasn't just because of that, Murph."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, turning to face him, shielding my eyes as the May sunshine threatened to blind me. "What else could it possibly have been?"

Ian turned to look at me, smirking slightly. "He wasn't afraid to kiss me," he replied.

. . .

After the escapade that was Jimmy Lishman, things calmed down considerably in the relationship department, although Fiona and Debbie were on me constantly over the next week as to what I'd planned for Iana's third birthday. I'd planned it myself this year—an intimate family tea party, which I was sure the entire family would approve of. Kev and V were going to make an appearance this year, along with their girls, Amy and Jemma, so it would prove to be a full house that year. I got the day before Iana's birthday off, scouring the entire house from top to bottom in preparation for the party, to be held on Saturday, the day after, while Nicholas, the boys, and I would have a quiet evening at home the night of.

As I was cleaning in the afternoon, about two hours before Nicholas was due home—with Iana and the boys upstairs napping—there was a knock on my door. Switching off my vacuum cleaner—which I'd been using in the living room—I set it down and moved the coil aside so that I wouldn't trip on it as I made my way towards the door. Opening it, I immediately found myself smiling at the person on the threshold, pleasantly surprised.

"Hey, Trev," I said. "What's up?"

Trevor smiled. "Having a slight situation. Was hoping you'd be willing to help."

I nodded. "By all means, come in," I said, standing back, allowing Trevor inside. "Ignore the vacuum," I said as we both stepped around it. "Getting the house ship-shape for Saturday. You are coming, aren't you?"

Trevor grinned. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it."

"Iana will be so pleased to hear that," I say, relieved that he was coming. "So, you are having a situation. How can I help?"

"The computers at the office got a glitch or a bug on them," Trevor replied.

"Shit," I replied. "I hope the important stuff didn't get damaged."

"We're having some tech guys working on it, but we have to be patient."

I nodded. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. But what can I do?"

"I have to write this motivational thing for our summer get-together," Trevor explained. "I have to write a new one every year."

I smiled, knowing what he was after. "And you want to borrow my laptop?"

Trevor sighed. "Yeah, I mean, if it's not too much trouble. Yours is a newer model that Ian's and the system is probably faster, meaning that I can probably get out of your hair sooner."

I motioned for him to follow me then, to the office that me and Nicholas shared, on the other side of the kitchen, past the laundry room. "You just want to email it to yourself, then?" I asked, signing into the system for him and pulling up Microsoft Word.

"I've got my flash drive," he replied, pulling it out of his pocket, and it reminded me of a silver bullet for some reason. "If that's cool."

I nodded. "Yeah, that's fine," I replied, showing him where to hook up the device. "I have to keep vacuuming in the living room. Will that bother you?"

"No, of course not," Trevor replied, pulling out his phone and earbuds. "I'll just crank up the music and listen while I work."

I grinned. "Best way to do things," I replied, squeezing his shoulder before making my way back into the living room, to finish the cleaning.

Iana's third birthday party went off without a hitch, with my now-three-year-old blowing out the candles on her birthday cake as the tea party princess. Fiona, Lip, Ian, Debbie, Carl, Liam, Kev, V, Trevor, Clayton, Fionn, Amy, Jemma, Nicholas, and I all surrounded her, applauding her for blowing them out all in one go. She was surrounded by gifts, all of which were an equal combination of practical and extravagant, and I was pleased that she seemed to be having such a wonderful night.

Nicholas and I had talked it over, and it was decided that, now that she was three, she could go to bed a full half an hour later than the boys. While Clayton and Fionn were taken up to be at seven o'clock, Iana was free to stay up an hour later—mainly because it was her birthday—but also because she wanted to say goodnight to everyone in a proper fashion. Due to the notion that she was so cute, Nicholas and I didn't refuse her request, and she did say goodnight to everyone that night, waving them off.

Once we got Iana to bed, Nicholas and I split the work of the mess the party had made down the middle, with me on food crew and him on dish duty. My job was to throw out all the plastic plates and utensils, plus Tupperware any food that was deemed salvageable. I managed to make enough room in the fridge for Iana's birthday cake—which I was sure she would want more of the following day—before finishing the job of clearing the table.

Once our jobs were done, Nicholas and I went upstairs and directly into our bedroom, changing for bed and turning off the lights. Lying there in the dark, we were mutually silent for several minutes, just enjoying each other's company, until Nicholas's hand captured mine. I grinned, crossing my fingers that he wanted what I thought he wanted, but then my husband spoke.

"I meant what I said, Murph."

"Hmmm?" I asked, turning around to face him in the darkness, making out his outline. "What do you mean?"

"I want to have more children."

I sighed, rolling my eyes in the darkness. "And I meant what I said, Nicholas," I replied, my tone flat as I turned away from him. "In a couple of years. I'd like one of my pregnancies to not have the stigma of being unplanned..."

My husband sighed, pulling himself closer to me and wrapping his arms around my frame. "I just want to know one thing..."

"What?" I asked.

"How is life any fun if it's planned all the time?"

. . .

It had been a long time coming, but on Friday, June twenty-fourth, Nicholas and I left the firm at lunch to pick up Iana from preschool together. Allie and Hugo were leaving just behind us as well, to go and pick up Clayton and Fionn early from daycare. I texted my family, wanting to know about their progress; everyone except Carl, who had to finish his training for the day, but would be along later, and Liam, who had school until three, would be there. When Nicholas and I pulled up at Iana's preschool, she was there with the principal, waiting for us, as arranged. I practically flew out of the car, thanking the principal and taking my daughter into my arms, bringing her into the car, where her booster seat was waiting.

"Do you remember what's happening today?" Nicholas asked her.

Iana grinned as I did my best to make sure that she was buckled in correctly. "You're going to be my daddy!" she cried out, clapping her hands.

Nicholas nodded as I shut her door and got back into the passenger seat. "That's right. And do you remember what's going to happen?"

"Judge?" she asked.

"That's right, angel," I replied, turning around and facing her. "The judge is going to ask you if you want Nicholas to be your daddy."

"Yes!" Iana said immediately.

I turned and looked at Nicholas. "You sure Judge Whitmore doesn't mind doing this?"

"Please," Nicholas replied, waiting for Iana to be distracted by something in her backpack. "He lives for this shit."

We made our way to the courthouse, parking close by and getting out of the car. Nicholas carried Iana in his arms, taking my hand as we walked up the stairs together, and I felt instantly complete when I saw that Allie and Hugo had already arrived with the boys, and that Fiona, Lip, Ian, and Debbie were in attendance. I quickly noticed that Trevor wasn't there, and I gave Ian a perplexed expression at his absence.

"I think one of his teens overdosed," he said quietly.

"Jesus," I whispered, shaking my head as I waited for our case number to be called. "Well, I hope everything works out. We'll see him soon."

"Yeah," Ian said with a smile.

The door to one of the courtrooms opened then, and a bailiff stood there. "Pertaining to the adoption of Iana Phillipa Gallagher," he said.

"That's us!" I replied, my hand shooting up as we stepped forward.

My family flanked me from all sides then, but I stayed at the helm of it all with Nicholas, keeping a close eye on Iana, while all the while staring over my shoulder at my boys, whom Allie and Hugo were holding. Smiling at them, I watched as Judge Whitmore entered the courtroom from chambers, and beamed when he saw the two of us, giving Iana a wave. Iana waved back, and I suspected she remembered him from when Nicholas and I were married, which didn't surprise me.

"Well, here we go," Judge Whitmore said, regarding Nicholas then. "Nicholas Henry Blomqvist, please raise your right hand." He smiled to himself then as Nicholas did so. "Do you swear that you would like to adopt this child, Iana Philippa Gallagher, and raise her as your own?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Nicholas replied.

"Do you swear that you will love her and treat her the same as your two boys, and that she will inherit from you?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"And do you consent to give your name to this child?"

"She will be Gallagher-Blomqvist, Your Honor, per her mother's wishes, and my own."

Judge Whitmore nodded, before looking at Iana. "Iana Phillipa Gallagher?"

"Yes, Your Honor?" Iana said, trying to sound grown-up.

"Do you wish to be adopted by Nicholas Blomqvist?"

Iana nodded. "Yes. He's my daddy."

Judge Whitmore smiled at her honest, albeit childlike, reply. "Well, I suppose we're all in agreement, then," he said, turning to me. "And do you, Murphy Margaret Gallagher-Blomqvist, consent to allow the adoption of your daughter, Iana Phillipa Gallagher, by Nicholas Henry Blomqvist?"

I nodded, raising my right hand. "I do, Your Honor."

"Well, then, I am signing the adoption agreement, in the powers grated to me by the State of Chicago," he replied. "Step forward, please," he said, once he had signed the document. "First, Nicholas," he said, and Nicholas hastily signed. "Now, Murphy," he said, and I stepped forward, taking ahold of the pen and writing down my name. "And Iana? Can you write you name, sweetheart?" he asked.

Iana nodded. "I can!" she cried, taking the pen and writing her name.

"Well, then," Judge Whitmore said, spreading his hands, "welcome to the world, Iana Gallagher-Blomqvist," he said.

Iana immediately turned to Nicholas. "Daddy!" she shouted, and threw her arms around his neck in a moment of triumph.

We went to the house that night—because Fiona declared that we had to party Gallagher style, and the only way to do it was at the Gallagher house. Carl and Liam eventually made it over, with Fiona calling up Kev and V to join us with the girls as well. As we danced around the living room in a moment of euphoria, old music playing on the stereo, all I could think about was the notion that, in this moment, I was happy. I was truly happy, and nothing, nothing in the world, would be able to change that.

It was just after six when there were three knocks on the door, and Ian quickly stepped forward to go and see who it was. I was sitting on the couch, both boys in my lap, taking a break from the dancing to watch Nicholas dancing with Iana. My husband was in his element, and never in my life had I seen him happier.

Ian stepped into the living room then, his face white. "Murph?"

Quickly, I handed the boys to Iana then and walked up to him. "What's wrong?" I asked, and I found I couldn't shake my happiness. "Someone die or something?"

Ian sighed. "Yeah. Your freedom."

"Wait—my what?!" I demanded then, looking around him then, and saw two police officers standing on the front porch. Cautiously, I reached for Ian's hand, and he quickly clasped it into mine as I stepped forward. "Officers? Is everything okay?" I asked.

"Murphy Gallagher?" they asked.

"Murphy Gallagher-Blomqvist," I replied, knowing I shouldn't be too heated with them as I leaned slightly against Ian for support. "What's this about?"

"Murphy Gallagher- _Blomqvist_ ," one of the officers sneered, "you're under arrest. Put your hands behind your back, please."

My throat went dry then as I turned to Ian in a panic, but one of the officers seized the opportunity to flip me around and restrain me, cuffing me. "Ian..." I whispered, my voice elevating then as they dragged me down the porch. "What is it? What's wrong? What have I done here?!" I demanded then as Ian suddenly kicked into high-gear.

"Hey!" he shouted then, thundering down the stairs, alerting everyone in the house to what was going on, and causing them all to stream out of the house. "Don't touch her! Where are you taking her?!"

"What charges, officer?" I asked, looking at them, my voice shaking. "Please. I just want to know the charges..."

"Aiding and abetting a known fugitive," the officer replied.

"I what?!" I cried out as they guided me towards the car. "I never—"

The officer, obviously growing impatient, slammed me up against the trunk of their police vehicle, which incited rage from my family members, but Kev sensibly held them back. "The name Mikhailo Milkovich mean anything to you, Murphy?"

I tried twisting around then, tasting blood as it escaped my nose and ran down my face. "What's it to you?" I demanded. "We _all_ fucking know him!"

"Yes, but you knowingly corresponded with a known fugitive, and that's illegal, Murphy. I would've thought a lawyer would've known her shit better..."

As I tried escaping their manhandling, they hauled me into the car, slamming the door behind me, nearly as hard as they'd slammed me on the trunk of the car. As I stared out the window then, my heart hammering in my chest as I looked up into the faces of my family, I felt the hot tears coming down my face. Cursing myself at my sign of weakness and my inability to wipe them away, what I hated the most was being unable to wave goodbye, or even say it. As we drove off, I decided to keep my mouth shut, but that proved difficult when I saw Trevor's car coming into view, pulling off the side of the road for the officers to pass first, and the notion of rage and betrayal cutting through me simultaneously as he smirked at me. It was an expression of triumph—he _wanted_ this to happen—but it was quickly gone as the police pulled further and further down the street, their minds already made up that I was guilty.

END OF SEASON FIVE


End file.
